

















no.. 2046 

LIBRARY 

or THE 

DEPARTMENT OF STATE. 

. Excsangs. 

Alcove,______ _____ 

Shelf,_ 




Library of Congress, 


Chap. 

Shelf. 


.._TlXJ__0lOA 


1 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.; 






































\ 







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— 













a oHk 


a i '$ > 

ESSAYS 

ON THE 


PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY, 


AND ON THE 

PRIVATE AND POLITICAL 

RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS 

OF 


MANKIND. 


/ 

By JONATHAN DYMOND, 


Author of “ An Enquiry into the Accordancy of War with the Principles of 
Christianity , fyc.” 


“As the Will of God is our rule; to inquire what is our duty, or what we 
are obliged^to do, in any instance, is, in effect, to inquire what is the will of God 
in that instance? which consequently becomes the whole business of morality.” 

Paley. 


THIRD EDITION. 


LONDON: 

PRINTED FOR HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO., 

33, PATERNOSTER ROW. 

MDCCCXXXVI. 

L* 





(V5\ 00(0 


LONDON: 

PRINTED BY E. COUCHMA.N, 10, THROGMORTON STREET. 



TO THAT 


SMALL, BUT INCREASING NUMBER,— 


WHETHER IN THIS COUNTRY OR ELSEWHERE,— 


WHO 


MAINTAIN IN PRINCIPLE, 


AND 


ILLUSTRATE BY THEIR PRACTICE, 

THE GREAT DUTY 


OF CONFORMING TO THE 


LAWS OF CHRISTIAN MORALITY, 


WITHOUT REGARD TO 

DANGERS OR PRESENT ADVANTAGES, 

THIS WORK 


IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 



PREFACE. 


The Author of this Work died in the spring of 1828, leaving 
in manuscript the three Essays of which it consists. We learn 
from himself, that the undertaking originated in a belief (in which 
he probably is far from being alone), that the existing treatises 
on Moral Philosophy did not exhibit the principles nor enforce 
the obligations of morality in all their perfection and purity; that 
a work was yet wanted which should present a true and authori¬ 
tative standard of rectitude, one by an appeal to which the moral 
character of human actions might be rightly estimated. This he 
here endeavours to supply. 

Rejecting what he considered the false grounds of duty, and 
erroneous principles of action which are proposed in the most 
prominent and most generally received of our extant theories of 
moral obligation, he proceeds to erect a system of morality upon 
what he regards as the only true and legitimate basis,—the Will 
of God. He makes, therefore, the authority of the Deity the 
sole ground of duty, and His communicated will the only ultimate 
standard of right and wrong; and assumes, “ that wheresoever 
this will is made known, human duty is determined;—and that 
neither the conclusions of philosophers, nor advantages, nor 
dangers, nor pleasures, nor sufferings, ought to have any opposing 
influence in regulating our conduct.” 

The attempt to establish a system of such uncompromising 
morality, must necessarily bring the writer into direct collision with 
the advocates of the utilitarian scheme, particularly with Dr. Paley; 
and accordingly it will be found that he frequently enters the lists 
with this great champion of Expediency. With what success—• 
how well he exposes the fallacies of that specious but dangerous 
doctrine,—how far he succeeds in refuting the arguments by 




VI 


PREFACE. 


which it is sought to be maintained, and in establishing another 
system of obligations and duties and rights upon a more stable 
foundation, must be left tOvthe reader to determine. 

In thus attempting to convert a system of Moral Philosophy, 
dubious, fluctuating, and inconsistent with itself, into a definite 
and harmonious code of Scripture Ethics, the Author undertook 
a task for which, by the original structure of his mind and his 
prevailing habits of reflection, he was, perhaps, peculiarly fitted. 
He had sought for himself, and he endeavours to convey to others, 
clear perceptions of the true and the right; and in maintaining 
what he regarded as truth and rectitude, he shows every where 
an unshackled independence of mind, and a fearless, unflinching 
spirit. The work wall be found moreover, if we mistake not, to 
be the result of a careful study of the writings of moralists, of 
much thought, of an intimate acquaintance with the genius of 
the Christian religion, and an extensive observation of human 
life in those spheres of action which are seldom apt to attract the 
notice of the meditative philosopher. 

In proceeding to illustrate his principles, the Author has 
evidently sought, as far as might be, to simplify the subject, 
to disencumber it of abstruse and metaphysical appendages, and, 
rejecting subtleties and needless distinctions, to exhibit a standard 
of morals that should be plain, perspicuous, and practicable. 

Premising thus much, the work must be left to its own merits. 
It is the last labour of a man laudably desirous of benefiting his 
fellow men; and it will fulfil the Author’s wish, if its effect be to 
raise the general tone of morals, to give distinctness to our per¬ 
ceptions of rectitude, and to add strength to our resolutions to 
virtue. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTORY NOTICES 
General Objects and Plan. 


1 


ESSAY I. 


PART I. 


PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY. 

CHAP. I. MORAL OBLIGATION. 5 

Foundation of Moral Obligation. 

CHAP. II. STANDARD OF RIGHT AND WRONG ... 7 


The Will of God—Notices of Theories—The Communication of the 
Will of God—The supreme authority of the expressed Will of God— 
Causes of its practical rejection—The principles of Expediency fluc¬ 
tuating and inconsistent—Application of the principles of Expediency 
—Difficulties—Liability to abuse—Pagans. 

CHAP. III. SUBORDINATE STANDARDS OF RIGHT AND 

WRONG. 23 

Foundation and limits of the authority of subordinate moral rules. 

CHAP. IV. COLLATERAL OBSERVATIONS. 25 

Identical authority of moral and religious obligations—The divine attri¬ 
butes—Of deducing rules of human duty from a consideration of the 
attributes of God—Virtue : “ Virtue is conformity with the Standard 
of Rectitude”—Motives of action. 

CHAP. V. SCRIPTURE .......... 30 

The morality of the Patriarchal, Mosaic, and Christian dispensations— 












Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


Their moral requisitions not always coincident—Supremacy of the 
Christian morality—Of variations in the Moral Law—Mode of apply¬ 
ing the precepts of Scripture to questions of duty—No formal moral 
system in Scripture—Criticism of Biblical morality—Of particular 
precepts and general rules—Matt. vii. 12. — 1 Cor. x. 31. —Rom. iii. 8. 

—Benevolence, as it is proposed in the Christian Scriptures. 

/ 

CHAP. VI. THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL 

OF GOD. .48 

Conscience—Its nature—Its authority—Review of opinions respecting 
a moral sense—Bishop Butler—Lord Bacon—Lord Shaftesbury— 

Watts—Voltaire—Locke—Southey—Adam Smith—Paley—Rousseau 
—Milton—Judge Hale—Marcus Antoninus—Epictetus—Seneca— 
Paul—That every human being possesses a moral law—Pagans— 
Gradations of light—Prophecy—The immediate communication of 
the Divine Will perpetual—Of national vices: Infanticide: Duelling 
—Of savage life. 


PART II. 

SUBORDINATE MEANS OF DISCOVERING THE DIVINE WILL. 

CHAP. I. THE LAW OF THE LAND. 75 

Its authority—Limits to its authority—Morality sometimes prohibits 
what the law permits. 

CHAP. II. THE LAW OF NATURE. 81 

Its authority—Limits to its authority—Obligations resulting from the 
Rights of Nature—Incorrect ideas attached to the word Nature. 

CHAP. III. UTILITY. 87 

Obligations resulting from Expediency—Limits to these obligations. 

CHAP. IV. THE LAW OF NATIONS.-THE LAW OF HONOUR.- 

SECT. I. THE LAW OF NATIONS 91 

Obligations and authority of the Law of Nations—Its abuses, and the 
limits of its authority—Treaties. 

SECT. II. THE LAW OF HONOUR. 96 

Authority of the Law of Honour—Its character. 





CONTENTS. 


IX 


ESSAY II. 


PRIVATE RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS. 

CHAP. I. RELIGIOUS OBLIGATIONS. 100 

Factitious semblances of devotion—Religious conversation—Sabbatical 
institutions—Non-sanctity of days—Of temporal employments: Tra¬ 
velling: Stage-coaches: “ Sunday papers:” Amusements—Holy- 
days—Ceremonial institutions and devotional formularies—Utility of 
forms—Forms of prayer—Extempore prayer—Scepticism—Motives 
to scepticism. 

CHAP II. PROPERTY. 117 

Foundation of the Right to Property—Insolvency : Perpetual obligation 
to pay debts: Reform of public opinion: Examples of integrity— 
Wills, Legatees, Heirs: Informal Wills: Intestates—Charitable Be¬ 
quests—Minor’s debts—A Wife’s debts—Bills of Exchange—Ship¬ 
ments—Distraints—Unjust defendants — Extortion—Slaves—Priva¬ 
teers—Confiscations—Public money—Insurance—Improvements on 
estates—Settlements—Houses of infamy—Literary property—Re¬ 
wards. 

CHAP. III. INEQUALITY OF PROPERTY. 144 

Accumulation of Wealth: its proper limits—Provision for children: 

“ Keeping up the family.” 

CHAP. IV. LITIGATION.—-ARBITRATION. 150 

Practice of early Christians—Evils of Litigation—Efficiency of Arbi¬ 
tration. 

CHAP. V. THE MORALITY OF LEGAL PRACTICE . . . 155 

Complexity of law—Professional untruths—Defences of legal practice—• 
Effects of legal practice: Seduction: Theft: Peculation—Pleading— 

The duties of the profession—Effects of legal practice on the pro¬ 
fession, and on the public. 

CHAP. VI. PROMISES.-LIES. 

PROMISES. 171 

Definition of a promise—Parole—Extorted promises—John Fletcher. 






X 


CONTENTS. 


LIES.. 175 

Milton’s definition—Lies in war: to robbers: to lunatics: to the sick— 
Hyperbole — Irony—Complimentary untruths—“Not at Home”— 
Legal documents. 

CHAP. VII. OATHS. 182 

THEIR MORAL CHARACTER: 

THEIR EFFICACY AS SECURITIES OF VERACITY : 

THEIR EFFECTS. 

A Curse—Immorality of oaths—Oaths of the ancient Jews—Milton— 
Paley—The High Priest’s adjuration—Early Christians—Inefficacy of 
oaths—Motives to veracity—Religious sanctions : Public opinion: 
Legal penalties—Oaths in Evidence : Parliamentary evidence: Courts 
Martial—The United States—Effects of oaths: Falsehood—General 
obligations. 

CHAP. VIII. OF PARTICULAR OATHS. 199 

Oath of Allegiance—Oath in Evidence—Perjury—Military oath—Oath 
against Bribery at Elections—Oath against simony—University oaths 
—Subscription to articles of religion—Meaning of the 39 articles 
literal—Refusal to subscribe. 

CHAP. IX. IMMORAL AGENCY. 211 

Publication and circulation of books—Seneca—Circulating Libraries— 
Public houses—Prosecutions—Political affairs. 

CHAP X. THE INFLUENCE OF INDIVIDUALS UPON PUB¬ 
LIC NOTIONS OF MORALITY. 218 

Public notions of morality—Errors of public opinion: their effects— 
Duelling—Scottish Bench—Glory—Military virtues—Military talent 
—Bravery—Courage—Patriotism not the soldier’s motive—Military 
fame—Public opinion of unchastity : In women: In men—Power of 
character—Character in Legal men—Fame—Faults of Great men— 

The Press—Newspapers—History: Its defects: Its power. 

CHAP. XI. INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION .. 245 

Ancient Classics—London University—The Classics in boarding schools 
—English grammar—Science and Literature—Improved system of 
education—Orthography: Writing: Reading: Geography: Natural 
History: Biography: Natural Philosophy : Political Science—Indi¬ 
cations of a revolution in the system of education—Female Education 
—The Society of Friends. 






CONTENTS. 


XI 


CHAP. XII. MORAL EDUCATION . 261 

Union of moral principle with the affections — Society — Morality of 
the Ancient Classics—The supply of motives to virtue—Conscience— 
Subjugation of the Will—Knowledge of our own Minds—Offices of 
public worship. 

CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE . 273 

Advantages of extended education—Infant Schools—Habits of inquiry. 

CHAP. XIV. AMUSEMENTS . 278 

The stage—Religious amusements—Masquerades—Field sports—The 
Turf—Boxing—Wrestling—Opinions of posterity—Popular amuse¬ 
ments needless. 

CHAP. XV. DUELLING . 285 

Pitt and Tierney—Duelling the offspring of intellectual meanness, fear, 
and servility—“A fighting man”—Hindoo immolations—Wilberforce 


—Seneca. 

CHAP. XVI. SUICIDE . 291 

Unmanliness of suicide—Forbidden in the New Testament—Its folly— 
Legislation respecting suicide—Verdict of Felo de se. 

CHAP. XVII. RIGHTS OF SELF-DEFENCE . 296 


These rights not absolute—Their limits—Personal attack—Preservation 
of property—Much resistance lawful—Effects of forbearance—Sharpe 
—Barclay—Ellwood. 






CONTENTS. 


xii 


ESSAY III. 


POLITICAL RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS. 

CHAP. I. PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL TRUTH, AND OF PO¬ 
LITICAL RECTITUDE. 305 

I. “ Political Power is rightly exercised only when it is possessed by 
consent of the community” — Governors Officers of the public— 
Transfer of their rights by a whole people—The people hold the 
sovereign power—Right of Governors—A conciliating system. 

II. “ Political Power is rightly exercised only when it subserves the 
welfare of the community” — Interference with other nations — 
Present expedients for present occasions—Proper business of Go¬ 
vernments. 

III. “ Political Power is rightly exercised only when it subserves the 
welfare of the community by means which the Moral Law permits”— 

The Moral Law alike binding on nations and individuals—Devia¬ 


tion from rectitude impolitic — “ The Holy Alliance” — Durable 
fame. 

CHAP. II. CIVIL LIBERTY . . 322 

Loss of Liberty—War—Useless laws. 

CHAP. III. POLITICAL LIBERTY . 325 


Political Liberty the right of a community—Public satisfaction. 


CHAP. IV. RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 327 

Civil disabilities—Interference of the Magistrate—Pennsylvania—Tole¬ 
ration—America—Creeds—Religious Tests—“ The Catholic Ques¬ 
tion.” 


CHAP. V. CIVIL OBEDIENCE .. 336 

Expediency of obedience—Obligations to obedience—Extent of the duty 
—Resistance to the civil power—Qbedience may be withdrawn—King 
James — America —Non-compliance—Interference of the Magistrate— 
Oaths of Allegiance. 







CONTENTS, 


Xlll 


\ 

CHAP. VI. FORMS OF GOVERNMENT . 348 

Some general principles—Monarchy—Balance of interests and passions 
—Changes in a constitution—Popular government—The world in a 
state of improvement—Character of legislators. 


CHAP. VII. POLITICAL INFLUENCE.-PARTY.-MINISTE¬ 
RIAL UNION . 357 

Influence of the crown—Effects of influence—Incongruity of public no¬ 
tions—Patronage—American States—Dependency on the mother coun¬ 
try—Party—Ministerial union—“A party man”—The council hoard 
and the senate—Resignation of offices. 


CHAP. VIII. BRITISH CONSTITUTION.369 

Influence of the crown—House of Lords—Candidates for a peerage— 
Sudden creation of peers—The bench of bishops—Proxies—House of 
Commons—The wishes of the people—Extension of the elective fran¬ 
chise—Universal suffrage—Frequent elections—Modes of election— 
Annual parliaments—Qualifications of voters and representatives—Of 
choosing the clergy—Duties of a representative—Systematic opposi¬ 
tion—Placemen and pensioners—Posthumous fame. 


CHAP. IX. MORAL LEGISLATION . 392 

Duties of a Ruler—The two objects of moral legislation—Education of 
the people—Bible Society—Lotteries—Public houses—Abrogation of 
bad laws—Primogeniture—Accumulation of property. 

CHAP. X. ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE . 402 

x 

Substitution of justice for law—Court of Chancery—Of fixed laws ; — 
Their inadequacy—They increase litigation—Delays—Expenses—In¬ 
formalities—Precedents—Verdicts—Legal proof—Courts of Arbitration 
—An extended system of arbitration—Arbitration in criminal trials— 
Constitution of courts of arbitration—Their effects—Some alterations 
suggested—Technicalities—Useless laws. 


CHAP. XI. OF THE PROPER SUBJECTS OF PENAL ANIM¬ 
ADVERSION . 422 

Crimes regarded by the civil and the Moral Law—Created offences—Se¬ 
duction—Duelling—Insolvents—Criminal debtors—Gradations of guilt 
in insolvency—Libels: mode of punishing—Effects of the laws re¬ 
specting libels—Effects of public censure—Libels on the government 
—Advantages of a free statement of the truth—Freedom of the press. 




XIV 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP. XII. OF THE PROPER ENDS OF PUNISHMENT . . 444 

The three objects of punishment: Reformation of the offender: Exam¬ 
ple : Restitution—Punishment may be increased as well as diminished. 

CHAP. XIII. PUNISHMENT OF DEATH.450 

Of the three objects of punishment, the punishment of death regards but 
one—Reformation of minor offenders: Greater criminals neglected— 
Capital punishments not efficient as examples—Public executions— 

Paul—Grotius—Murder—The punishment of death irrevocable—Rous¬ 
seau—Recapitulation. 

CHAP. XIV. RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.461 

The primitive church—The established church of Ireland—America— 
Advantages and disadvantages of established churches—Alliance of a 
church with the state—An established church perpetuates its own evils 
-—Persecution generally the growth of religious establishments—State 
religions injurious to the civil welfare of a people—Legal provision for 
Christian teachers—Voluntary payment—Advancement in the church— 

The appointment of religious teachers. 

CHAP. XV. THE RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS OF ENGLAND 

AND IRELAND.487 

The English church the offspring of the reformation, the church establish¬ 
ment , of papacy—Alliance of church and state—“ The priesthood averse 
from reformation”—Noble ecclesiastics—Purchase of advowsons— 
Non-residence—Pluralities—Parliamentary returns—The clergy fear 
to preach the truth—Moral preaching—Recoil from works of philan¬ 
thropy—Tithes—“ The church is in danger”—The church establishment 
is in danger—Monitory suggestion. 


CHAP. XVI. OF LEGAL PROVISION FOR CHRISTIAN TEACH¬ 
ERS.-OF VOLUNTARY PAYMENT, AND OF UNPAID 

MINISTRY . 514 

Compulsory payment—America—Legal provision for one church unjust 
—Payment of Tithes by dissenters—Tithes a “ property of the church” 

—Voluntary payment—The system of remuneration—Qualifications of 
a minister of the gospel—Unpaid ministry—Days of greater purity. 


CHAP. XVII. PATRIOTISM. 530 

Patriotism as it is viewed by Christianity—A Patriotism which is op¬ 
posed to general benignity—Patriotism not the soldier’s motive. 





CONTENTS. 


XV 


CHAP. XVIII. SLAVERY. 534 

Requisitions of Christianity professedly disregarded-—Persian law—The 
slave system a costly iniquity. 

CHAP. XIX. WAR. 

CAUSES OF WAR . . 542 

Want of inquiry: Indifference to human misery: National irritability: 
Interest: Secret motives of cabinets: Ideas of glory—Foundation of 
military glory. 

CONSEQUENCES OF WAR. 550 

Destruction of human life: Taxation: Moral depravity: Familiarity with 
plunder: Implicit submission to superiors: Resignation of moral 
agency: Bondage and degradation—Loan of armies—Effects on the 
community. 

LAWFULNESS OF WAR. 561 

Influence of habit—Of appealing to antiquity—The Christian Scriptures 
—Subjects of Christ’s benediction—Matt, xxvii. 52—The Apostles and 
Evangelists—The Centurion—Cornelius—Silence not a proof of ap¬ 
probation—Luke xxii. 36—John the Baptist—Negative evidence— 
Prophecies of the Old Testament—The requisitions of Christianity of 
present obligation—Primitive Christians—Example and testimony of 
early Christians—Christian Soldiers—Wars of the Jews—Duties of in¬ 
dividuals and nations—Offensive and defensive war—Wars always 
aggressive—Paley—War wholly forbidden. 

OF THE PROBABLE PRACTICAL EFFECTS OF ADHER¬ 
ING TO THE MORAL LAW IN RESPECT TO WAR 589 
Quakers in America and Ireland—Colonization of Pennsylvania—Uncon¬ 
ditional reliance on Providence—Recapitulation—General Observa¬ 
tions. 


CONCLUSION 


. 599 































. 




' 























. 












■ 




















INTRODUCTORY NOTICES. 


Of the two causes of our deviations from Rectitude—want of 
Knowledge and want of Virtue—the latter is undoubtedly the 
more operative. Want of Knowledge is, however, sometimes a 
cause; nor can this be any subject of wonder when it is recol¬ 
lected in what manner many of our notions of right and wrong are 
acquired. From infancy, every one is placed in a sort of moral 
school, in which those with whom he associates, or of whom he 
hears, are the teachers. That the learner in such a school will 
often be taught amiss, is plain.—So that we want information 
respecting our duties. To supply this information is an object of 
Moral Philosophy, and is attempted in the present work. 

When it is considered by what excellencies the existing trea¬ 
tises on Moral Philosophy are recommended, there can remain 
but one reasonable motive for adding yet another—the belief that 
these treatises, have not exhibited the Principles and enforced the 
Obligations of Morality in all their perfection and purity. Perhaps 
the frank expression of this belief is not inconsistent with that 
deference which it becomes every man to feel when he addresses 
the public; because, not to have entertained such a belief, were 
to have possessed no reason for writing. The desire of supplying 
the deficiency, if deficiency there be; of exhibiting a true and 
authoritative Standard of Rectitude, and of estimating the moral 
character of human actions by an appeal to that Standard, is the 
motive which has induced the composition of these Essays. 

In the First Essay the writer has attempted to investigate 
the Principles of Morality. In which term is here included, first 
the Ultimate Standard of Right and Wrong; and secondly, those 
Subordinate Rules to which we are authorised to apply for the 
direction of our conduct in life. In these investigations, he has 


B 



2 


INTRODUCTORY NOTICES, 


been solicitous to avoid any approach to curious or metaphysical 
inquiry. He has endeavoured to act upon the advice given by 
Tindal the reformer to his friend John Frith : “ Pronounce not or 
define of hid secrets, or things that neither help nor hinder whether 
it be so or no; but stick you stiffly and stubbornly in earnest and 
necessary things.” 

In the Second Essay these Principles of Morality are applied 
in the determination of various questions of personal and relative 
duty. In making this application it has been far from the writer’s 
desire to deliver a system of Morality. Of the unnumbered par¬ 
ticulars to which this Essay might have been extended, he has 
therefore made a selection; and in making it, has chosen those 
subjects which appeared peculiarly to need the inquiry, either 
because the popular or philosophical opinions respecting them 
appeared to be unsound, or because they were commonly little 
adverted to in the practice of life. Form has been sacrificed to 
utility. Many great duties have been passed over, since no one 
questions their obligation; nor has the author so little consulted 
the pleasure of the reader as to expatiate upon duties simply 
because they are great. The reader will also regard the subjects 
that have been chosen, as selected, not only for the purpose of 
elucidating the subjects themselves, but as furnishing illustration 
of the General Principles:—as the compiler of a book of mathe¬ 
matics proposes a variety of examples, not merely to discover the 
solution of the particular problem, but to familiarize the applica¬ 
tion of his general rule. 

Of the Third Essay, in which some of the great questions of 
Political Rectitude have been examined, the subjects are in them¬ 
selves sufficiently important. The application of sound and pure 
Moral Principles to questions of Government, of Legislation, of 
the Administration of Justice, or of Religious Establishments, is 
manifestly of great interest; and the interest is so much the 
greater because these subjects have usually been examined, as the 
writer conceives, by other and very different standards. 

The reader will probably find, in each of these Essays, some 
principles or some conclusions respecting human duties to which 
he has not been accustomed—some opinions called in question 




INTRODUCTORY NOTICES. 


3 


which he has habitually regarded as being indisputably true, and 
some actions exhibited as forbidden by morality which he has 
supposed to be lawful and right. In such cases I must hope for 
his candid investigation of the truth, and that he will not reject 
conclusions but by the detection of inaccuracy in the reasonings 
from which they are deduced. I hope he will not find himself 
invited to alter his opinions or his conduct without being shown 
why ; and if he is conclusively shown this, that he will not reject 
truth because it is new or unwelcome. 

With respect to the present influence of the Principles which 
these Essays illustrate, the author will feel no disappointment if it 
is not great. It is not upon the expectation of such influence that 
his motive is founded or his hope rests. His motive is, to advo¬ 
cate truth without reference to its popularity; and his hope is, to 
promote, by these feeble exertions, an approximation to that state 
of purity, which he believes it is the design of God shall eventu¬ 
ally beautify and dignify the condition of mankind. 





ESSAY I. 


PART I. 

PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY. 


CHAPTER I. 


MORAL OBLIGATION. 

There is little hope of proposing a definition of Moral Obliga¬ 
tion which shall be satisfactory to every reader; partly because 
the phrase is the representative of different notions in individual 
minds. No single definition can, it is evident, represent various 
notions; and there are probably no means by which the notions of 
individuals respecting Moral Obligation, can be adjusted to one 
standard. Accordingly, whilst attempts to define it have been 
very numerous, all probably have been unsatisfactory to the 
majority of mankind. 

Happily this question, like many others upon which the world 
is unable to agree, is of little practical importance. Many who 
dispute about the definition, coincide in their judgments of what 
we are obliged to do and to forbear: and so long as the individual 
knows that he is actually the subject of Moral Obligation, and 
actually responsible to a superior power, it is not of much conse¬ 
quence whether he can critically explain in what Moral Obligation 
consists. 

The writer of these pages, therefore, makes no attempts at 
strictness of definition. It is sufficient for his purpose that man 
is under an obligation to obey his Creator; and if any one curi- 






6 


MORAL OBLIGATION. 


Essay 1 . 


ously asks “ Why]”—he answers, that one reason at least is, 
that the Deity possesses the power, and evinces the intention, to 
call the human species to account for their actions, and to punish 
or reward them. 

There may he, and I believe there are, higher grounds upon 
which a sense of Moral Obligation may be founded ; such as the 
love of goodness for its own sake, or love and gratitude to God 
for his beneficence : nor is it unreasonable to suppose that such 
grounds of obligation are especially approved by the universal 
Parent of mankind. 


CHAPTER II 


STANDARD OF RJGHT AND WRONG. 

It is obvious that to him who seeks the knowledge of his duty, 
the first inquiry is, What is the Rule of duty 1 What is the 
Standard of Right and Wrong ']— Most men, or most of those with 
whom we are concerned, agree that this Standard consists in the 
Will of God. But here the coincidence of opinion stops. Various 
and very dissimilar answers are given to the question—How is 
the will of God to be discovered! These differences lead to differ¬ 
ing conclusions respecting human duty. All the proposed modes 
of discovering his Will cannot be the best nor the right; and 
those which are not right, are likely to lead to erroneous conclu¬ 
sions respecting what his Will is. 

It becomes therefore a question of very great interest,—How is 
the Will of God to be discovered ] and, if there should appear to 
be more sources than one from which it may be deduced,—What 
is that source which, in our investigations, we are to regard as 
paramount to every other 1 


THE WILL OF GOD. 

When we say that most men agree in referring to the Will of 
God as the Standard of Rectitude, we do not mean that all those 
who have framed systems of moral philosophy have set out with 
this proposition as their fundamental rule; but we mean that the 
majority of mankind do really believe, (with whatever indistinct¬ 
ness,) that' they ought to obey the Will of God; and that, as it 
respects the systems of philosophical men, they will commonly be 
found to involve, directly or indirectly, the same belief. He who 
says that the “ Understanding” 1 is to be our moral guide, is not 

1 Dr. Price : Review of Principal Questions in Morals. 




8 


NOTICES OF THEORIES. 


Essay 1 . 


far from saying that we are to be guided by the Divine Will; 
because the understanding, however we define it, is the offspring 
of the Divine counsels and power. When Adam Smith resolves 
moral obligation into propriety arising from feelings of “ Sym¬ 
pathy,” 1 the conclusion is not very different; for these feelings 
are manifestly the result of that constitution which God gave to 
man. When Bishop Butler says that we ought to live according 
to nature , and make conscience the judge whether we do so live or 
not, a kindred observation arises; for the existence and nature 
of conscience must be referred ultimately to the Divine Will. Dr. 
Samuel Clarke’s philosophy is, that moral obligation is to be 
referred to the eternal and necessary differences of things. This 
might appear less obviously to have respect to the Divine Will, 
yet Dr. Clarke himself subsequently says, that the duties which 
these eternal differences of things impose, “ are also the express 
and unalterable will, command, and law of God to his creatures, 
which he cannot but expect should be observed by them in obe¬ 
dience to his supreme authority.” 2 Very similar is the practical 
doctrine of Wollaston. His theory is, that moral good and evil 
consist in a conformity or disagreement with truth —“ in treating 
every thing as being what it is." But then he says that to act by 
this rule “ must be agreeable to the Will of God, and if so, the 
contrary must be disagreeable to it, and, since there must be per¬ 
fect rectitude in his will, certainly wrong." 3 It is the same with 
Dr. Paley in his far-famed doctrine of Expediency. “ It is the 
utility of any action alone which constitutes the obligation of it ;” 
but this very obligation is deduced from the Divine Benevolence; 
from which it is attempted to show, that a regard to utility is en¬ 
forced by the Will of God. Nay he says expressly, “ Every 
duty is a duty towards God, since it is his will which makes it a 
duty.” 4 

Now there is much value in these testimonies, direct or indirect, 
to the truth—that the Will of God is the Standard of Right and 
Wrong. The indirect testimonies are perhaps the more valuable 
of the two. He who gives undesigned evidence in favor of a pro¬ 
position, is less liable to suspicion in his motives. 

But, whilst we regard these testimonies, and such as these, as 
containing satisfactory evidence that the Will of God is our 

1 Theory of Moral Sentiments. 2 Evidence of Natural and Revealed Religion. 
3 Religion of Nature delineated. 4 Moral and Political Philosophy. 






Chap. 2 . 


NOTICES OF THEORIES. 


9 


Moral Law, the intelligent inquirer will perceive that many of the 
proposed Theories are likely to lead to uncertain and unsatisfac¬ 
tory conclusions respecting what that Will requires. They prove 
that His Will is the Standard, but they do not clearly inform us 
how we shall bring our actions into juxta-position with it. 

One proposes the Understanding as the means; but every 
observer perceives that the understandings of men are often 
contradictory in their decisions. Indeed many of those who now 
think their understandings dictate the rectitude of a given action, 
will find that the understandings of the intelligent pagans of anti¬ 
quity came to very different conclusions. 

A second proposes Sympathy , regulated indeed and restrained, 
but still Sympathy. However ingenious a philosophical system 
may be, I believe that good men find, in the practice of life, that 
these emotions are frequently unsafe and sometimes erroneous 
guides of their conduct. Besides, the emotions are to be regulated 
and restrained : which of itself intimates the necessity of a regu¬ 
lating and restraining, that is, of a superior power. 

To say we should act according to the “ eternal and necessary 
differences of things,” is to advance a proposition which nine 
persons out of ten do not understand, and of course cannot adopt 
in practice; and of those who do understand it, perhaps an equal 
majority cannot apply it, with even tolerable facility, to the con¬ 
cerns of life. Why indeed should a writer propose these eternal 
differences, if he acknowledges that the rules of conduct which 
result from them are “ the express will and command of God]” 

To the system of a fourth, which says that virtue consists in a 
“ conformity of our actions with truth,” the objection presents 
itself—What is truth ? or how, in the complicated affairs of life, 
and in the moment perhaps of sudden temptation, shall the indivi¬ 
dual discover what truth is ] 

Similar difficulties arise in applying the doctrine of Utility, in 
“ adjusting our actions so as to promote, in the greatest degree, 
the happiness of mankind.” It is obviously difficult to apply this 
doctrine in practice. The welfare of mankind depends upon cir¬ 
cumstances which, if it were possible, it is not easy to foresee. 
Indeed in many of those conjunctures in which important decisions 
must instantly be made, the computation of tendencies to general 
happiness is wholly impracticable. 

Besides these objections which apply to the systems separately, 


10 


UTILITY OF DIRECT 


Essay 1 . 


there is one which applies to them all—That they do not refer us 
directly to the Will of God. They interpose a medium; and it 
is the inevitable tendency of all such mediums to render the truth 
uncertain. They depend not indepd upon hearsay evidence, but 
upon something of which the tendency is the same. They seek 
the Will of God not from positive evidence but by implication; 
and we repeat the truth, that every medium that is interposed 
between the Divine Will and our estimates of it, diminishes the 
probability that we shall estimate it rightly. 

These are considerations which, antecedently to all others, would 
prompt us to seek the Will of God directly and immediately; and 
it is evident that this direct and immediate knowledge of the 
Divine Will, can in no other manner be possessed than by his 
own Communication of it. 


THE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD. 

That a direct communication of the will of the Deity respecting 
the conduct which mankind shall pursue, must be very useful to 
them, can need little proof. It is sufficiently obvious that they 
who have had no access to the written revelations, have commonly 
entertained very imperfect views of right and wrong. What Dr. 
Johnson says of the ancient epic poets, will apply generally to 
pagan philosophers : They “ were very unskilful teachers of vir¬ 
tue,” because “they wanted the light of revelation.” Yet these 
men were inquisitive and acute, and it may be supposed they 
would have discovered moral truth if sagacity and inquisitiveness 
had been sufficient for the task. But it is unquestionable, that 
there are many ploughmen in this country, who possess more 
accurate knowledge of morality than all the sages of antiquity. 
We do not indeed sufficiently consider for how much knowledge 
respecting the Divine Will we are indebted to his own communi¬ 
cation of it. “ Many arguments, many truths both moral and 
religious, which appear to us the products of our understandings 
and the fruits of ratiocination, are in reality nothing more than 
emanations from Scripture; rays of the Gospel imperceptibly 
transmitted, and as it were conveyed to our minds in a side light.” 1 
Of Lord Herbert’s book, De Veritate, which was designed to 

1 Balguy: Tracts Moral and Theological:—Second Letter to a Deist. 



LAWS FROM GOD. 


11 


Chap. 2. 


disprove the validity of Revelation, it is observed by the editor of 
his “ Life,” that it is “ a hook so strongly imbued with the light 
of revelation relative to the moral virtues and a future life, that 
no man ignorant of the Scriptures or of the knowledge derived 
from them, could have written it.” 1 A modern system of moral 
philosophy is founded upon the duty of doing good to man, be¬ 
cause it appears, from the benevolence of God himself, that such is 
his will. Did those philosophers then, who had no access to the 
written expression of his will, discover with any distinctness, 
this seemingly obvious benevolence of God ? No. “ The hea¬ 
thens failed of drawing that deduction relating to morality to 
which, as we should now judge, the most obvious parts of natural 
knowledge, and such as certainly obtained among them, were suf¬ 
ficient to lead them, namely, the goodness of God” 2 —We are, I 
say, much more indebted to revelation for moral light than we 
commonly acknowledge or indeed commonly perceive. 

But if in fact we obtain from the communication of the Will 
of God, knowledge of wider extent and of a higher order than 
was otherwise attainable, is it not an argument that that commu¬ 
nicated Will should be our supreme law, and that if any of the 
inferior means of acquiring moral knowledge lead to conclusions 
in opposition to that Will, they ought to give way to its higher 
authority ! 

Indeed the single circumstance that an Omniscient Being, and 
who also is the Judge of mankind, has expressed his Will re¬ 
specting their conduct, appears a sufficient evidence that they 
should regard that expression as their paramount rule. They 
cannot elsewhere refer to so high an authority. If the expression 
of his Will is not the ultimate standard of right and wrong, it 
can only be on the supposition that his Will itself is not the ulti¬ 
mate standard ; for no other means of ascertaining that Will can 
be equally perfect and authoritative. 

Another consideration is this, that if we examine those sacred 
volumes in which the written expression of the Divine Will is 
contained, we find that they habitually proceed upon the supposi¬ 
tion that the Will of God, being expressed, is for that reason our 
final law. They do not set about formal proofs that we ought to 
sacrifice inferior rules to it, but conclude, as of course, that if the 
Will of God is made known, human duty is ascertained. “ It is 

1 4th Ed. p. 336. 2 Pearson : Remarks on the Theory of Morals. 


12 


SUPREME AUTHORITY OF THE 


Essay 1 . 


not to be imagined that the Scriptures would refer to any other 
foundation of virtue than the true one, and certain it is that the 
foundation to which they constantly do refer is the Will of God ,” 1 
Nor is this all: they refer to the expression of the Will of God. 
We hear nothing of any other ultimate authority—nothing of 
“ Sympathy”—nothing of the eternal fitness of things”—nothing 
of the “ production of the greatest sum of enjoyment;”—but we 
hear, repeatedly, constantly, of the Will of God; of the voice of 
God ; of the commands of God. To “ be obedient unto his voice,” 2 
is the condition of favor. To hear the “ sayings of Christ and do 
them,” 3 is the means of obtaining his approbation. To “ fear God 
and keep his commandments , is the whole duty of man.” 4 Even 
superior intelligences are described as “ doing his commandments, 
hearkening unto the voice of his word” 5 In short, the whole 
system of moral legislation, as it is exhibited in Scripture, is a 
system founded upon authority. The propriety, the utility of the 
requisitions are not made of importance. That which is made of 
importance is, the authority of the Being who legislates. “ Thus 
saith the Lord,” is regarded as constituting a sufficient and a final 
law. So also it is with the moral instructions of Christ. “ He 
put the truth of what he taught upon authority .” 6 In the sermon 
on the mount, I say unto you , is proposed as the sole, and suffici¬ 
ent, and ultimate ground of obligation. He does not say, “ My 
precepts will promote human happiness, therefore you are to obey 
them: but he says, They are my precepts, therefore you are to 
obey them. So habitually is this principle borne in mind, if we 
may so speak, by those who were commissioned to communicate 
the Divine Will, that the reason of a precept is not often assigned. 
The assumption evidently was, that the Divine Will was all that 
it was necessary for us to know. This is not the mode of enforcing 
duties which one man usually adopts in addressing another. He 
discusses the reasonableness of his advices and the advantages of 
following them, as well as, perhaps, the authority from which he 
derives them. The difference that exists between such a mode 
and that which is actually adopted in Scripture, is analagous to 
that which exists between the mode in which a parent communi¬ 
cates his instructions to a young child, and that which is employed 
by a tutor to an intelligent youth. The tutor recommends his in- 

i Pearson: Theory of Mor. c. 1. 2 Dent. iv. 30. 3 Matt. vii. 24. 

4 Eccl. xii. 13. 5 Ps. ciii, 20. 6 Paley: Evid. of Chris, p. 2, c. 2. 






Chap. 2. STANDARD OF RIGHT AND WRONG. 


13 


structions by their reasonableness and propriety : the father founds 
his upon his own authority. Not that the father’s instructions 
are not also founded in propriety, but that this, in respect of young 
children, is not the ground upon which he expects their obedience. 
It is not the ground upon which God expects the obedience of 
man. We can, undoubtedly, in general perceive the wisdom of 
his laws, and it is doubtless right to seek out that wisdom; but 
whether we discover it or not, does not lessen their authority nor 
alter our duties. 

In deference to these reasonings, then, we conclude, that the 
communicated Will of God is the Final Standard of Right and 
Wrong—that wheresoever this will is made known, human duty 
is determined—and that neither the conclusions of philosophers, 
nor advantages, nor dangers, nor pleasures, nor sufferings, ought 
to have any opposing influence in regulating our conduct. Let it 
be remembered, that in morals there can be no equilibrium of au¬ 
thority. If the expressed will of the Deity is not our supreme 
rule, some other is superior. This fatal consequence is insepara¬ 
ble from the adoption of any other ultimate rule of conduct. The 
Divine law becomes the decision of a certain tribunal—the adopted 
rule, the decision of a superior tribunal—for that must needs be 
the superior which can reverse the decisions of the other. It is 
a consideration, too, which may reasonably alarm the inquirer, 
that if once we assume this power of dispensing with the divine 
law, there is no limit to its. exercise. If we may supersede one 
precept of the Deity upon one occasion, we may supersede every 
precept upon all occasions. Man becomes the greater authority 
and God the less. 

If a proposition is proved to be true, no contrary reasonings can 
show it to be false; and yet it is necessary to refer to such rea¬ 
sonings, not indeed for the sake of the truth, but for the sake of 
those whose conduct it should regulate. Their confidence in truth 
may be increased if they discover that the reasonings which assail 
it are fallacious. To a considerate man it will be no subject of 
wonder that the supremacy of the expressed Will of God is often 
not recognised in the writings of moralists or in the practice of 
life. The speculative inquirer finds, that of some of the questions 
which come before him, Scripture furnishes no solution, and he 
seeks for some principle by which all may be solved. This indeed 
is the ordinary course of those who erect systems, whether in 



14 CAUSE OF ITS Essay 1, 

morals or in physics. The moralist acknowledges, perhaps, the 
authority of revelation; but in his investigations he passes away 
from the precepts of revelation, to some of those subordinate 
means by which human duties may be discovered—means which, 
however authorized by the Deity as subservient to his great pur¬ 
pose of human instruction, are wholly unauthorized as ultimate 
standards of right and wrong. Having fixed his attention upon 
these subsidiary means, he practically loses sight of the divine 
law which he acknowledges; and thus without any formal, per¬ 
haps without any conscious, rejection of the expressed Will of 
God, he really makes it subordinate to inferior rules. Another 
influential motive to pass by the Divine precepts, operates both 
upon writers and upon the publicthe rein which they hold up¬ 
on the desires and passions of mankind is more tight than they 
are willing to bear. Respecting some of these precepts we feel 
as the rich man of old felt: we hear the injunction and go away, 
if not with sorrow yet without obedience. Here again is an ob¬ 
vious motive to the writer to endeavour to substitute some less 
rigid rule of conduct, and an obvious motive to the reader to ac¬ 
quiesce in it as true without a very rigid scrutiny into its founda¬ 
tion. To adhere with fidelity to the expressed will of heaven, 
requires greater confidence in God than most men are willing to 
repose, or than most moralists are willing to recommend. 

But whatever have been the causes, the fact is indisputable, 
that few or none of the systems of morality which have been 
offered to the world, have uniformly and consistently applied the 
communicated Will of God in determination of those questions to 
which it is applicable. Some insist upon its supreme authority 
in general terms; others apply it in determining some questions 
of rectitude: but where is the work that applies it always 1 
Where is the moralist who holds every thing, Ease, Interest, Re¬ 
putation, Expediency, “ Honour,”—personal and national,—in 
subordination to this Moral Law 1 

One source of ambiguity and of error in moral philosophy, has 
consisted in the indeterminate use of the term, “ the Will of God.” 
It is used without reference to the mode by which that will is to 
be discovered—and it is in this mode that the essence of the con¬ 
troversy lies. We are agreed that the Will of God is to be our 
rule : the question at issue is, What mode of discovering it should 
be primarily adopted? Now the term, the “ Will of God,” has 


PRACTICAL REJECTION. 


15 


Chap. 2. 


been applied, interchangeably, to the precepts of Scripture, and to 
the deductions which have been made from other principles. The 
consequence has been that the imposing sanction, “ the Will of 
God,” has been applied to propositions of very different authority. 

To inquire into the validity of all those principles which have 
been proposed as the standard of rectitude, would be foreign to 
the purpose of this essay. That principle which appears to be 
most recommended by its own excellence and beauty, and which 
obtains the greatest share of approbation in the world, is the 
principle of directing “ every action so as to produce the greatest 
happiness and the least misery in our power.” The particular 
forms of defining the doctrine are various, but they may be con¬ 
veniently included in the one general term—Expediency. 

We say that the apparent beauty and excellence of this rule 
of action are so captivating, its actual acceptance in the world is 
so great, and the reasonings by which it is supported are so acute, 
that if it can be shown that this rule is not the ultimate standard 
of right and wrong, we may safely conclude that none other which 
philosophy has proposed can make pretensions to such authority. 
The truth indeed is, that the objections to the doctrine of expedi¬ 
ency will generally be found to apply to every doctrine which lays 
claim to moral supremacy—which application the reader is re¬ 
quested to make for himself as he passes along. 

Respecting the principle of Expediency—the doctrine that we 
should, in every action, endeavour to produce the greatest sum of 
human happiness—let it always be remembered that the only 
question is, whether it ought to be the paramount rule of human 
conduct. No one doubts whether it ought to influence us, or 
whether it is of great importance in estimating the duties of mo¬ 
rality. The sole question is this :—When an expression of the 
Will of God, and our calculations respecting human happiness, 
lead to different conclusions respecting the rectitude of an action—■ 
whether of the two shall we prefer and obey 1 

We are concerned only with Christian writers. Now when we 
come to analyze the principles of the Christian advocates of Ex¬ 
pediency, we find precisely the result which we should expect—a 
perpetual vacillation between two irreconcileable doctrines. As 
Christians, they necessarily acknowledge the authority, and, in 
words at least, the supreme authority of the Divine Law: as ad¬ 
vocates of the universal application of the law of Expediency, 


16 


PRINCIPLES OF EXPEDIENCY 


Essay 1 . 


they necessarily sometimes set aside the Divine Law, because 
they sometimes cannot deduce, from both laws, the same rule of 
action. Thus there is induced a continual fluctuation and uncer¬ 
tainty both in principles and in practical rules: a continual en¬ 
deavour to “ serve two masters.” 

Of these fluctuations an example is given in the article, “ Mo¬ 
ral Philosophy,” in Rees’s Encyclopaedia,—an article in which 
the principles of Hartley are in a considerable degree adopted* 
“ The Scripture precepts,” says the writer, “ are in themselves 
the rule of life.”—“ The supposed tendency of actions can never 
be put against the law of God as delivered to us by revelation, 
and should not therefore be made our chief guide.” This is very 
explicit. Yet the same article says, that the first great rule is, 
that “ we should aim to direct every action so as to produce the 
greatest happiness and the least misery in our power.” This rule 
however is somewhat difficult of application, and therefore “ in¬ 
stead of this most general rule we must substitute others, less 
general, and subordinate to it:” of which subordinate rules, to 
“ obey the Scripture precepts ” is one!—I do not venture to pre¬ 
sume that these writers do really mean what their words appear 
to mean,—that the law of God is supreme and yet that it is sub¬ 
ordinate,—-but one thing is perfectly clear, that either they make 
the vain attempt to “ serve two masters,” or that they employ 
language very laxly and very dangerously. 

The high language of Dr. Paley respecting Expediency as a 
paramount law, is well known :— “ Whatever is expedient is 
right.” 1 —“ The obligation of every law depends upon its ultimate 
utility.” 2 —“ It is the utility of any moral rule alone which consti¬ 
tutes the obligation of it.” 3 Perjury, Robbery, and Murder, “ are 
not useful, and for that reason, and that reason only, are not right.” 4 
It is obvious that this language affirms that utility is a higher au¬ 
thority than the expressed Will of God. If the utility of a moral 
rule alone constitutes the obligation of it, then is its obligation 
not constituted by the divine command. If murder is wrong only 
because it is not useful, it is not wrong because God has said, 
“ Thou shalt not kill.” 

But Paley was a Christian, and therefore could neither formally 
displace the Scripture precepts from their station of supremacy, 
nor avoid formally acknowledging that they were supreme. Ac- 
• Mor. and Pol. Phil. B. 2, c. 6. 2 B. 6, c. 12. 3 B . g, c . 6. 4 B. 2, c. 6. 


17 


Chap. 2. FLUCTUATING AND INCONSISTENT. 

cordingly he says, “ There are two methods of coming at the Will 
of God on any point: First—By his express declarations, when 
they are to be had, and which must be sought for in Scripture.” 1 
Secondly—By Expediency . And again, When Scripture precepts 
“ are clear and positive, there is an end to all further deliberation.” 2 
This makes the expressed Will of God the final standard of right 
and wrong. And here is the vacillation, the attempt to serve two 
masters of which we speak: for this elevation of the express 
declarations of God to the supremacy, is absolutely incompatible 
with the doctrines that are quoted in the preceding paragraph. 

These incongruities of principle are sometimes brought into 
operation in framing practical rules. In the chapter on Suicide it 
is shown that Scripture disallows the act. Here then we might 
conclude that there was “ an end to all further deliberation;” and 
yet, in the same chapter, we are told that suicide would neverthe¬ 
less be justifiable if it were expedient. Respecting Civil Obedience 
he says, the Scriptures “ inculcate the duty” and “ enforce the obli¬ 
gation;” but notwithstanding this, he pronounces that the “ only 
ground of the subjects’ obligation” consists in Expediency . 3 If it 
consists only in expediency, the divine law upon the subject is a 
dead letter. In one chapter he says that murder would be right if 
it was useful, 4 in another, that “ one word” of prohibition “ from 
Christ is final.” 5 The words of Christ cannot be final, if we are 
afterwards to enquire whether murder is “ useful” or not. One 
other illustration will suffice. In laying down the rights of the 
magistrate, as to making laws respecting religion, he makes 
Utility the ultimate standard; so that whatever the magistrate 
thinks it useful to ordain, that he has a right to ordain. But 
in stating the subjects’ duties as to obeying laws respecting 
religion, he makes the commands of God the ultimate standard. 6 
The consequence is inevitable, that it is right for the magistrate 
to command an act, and right for the subject to refuse to obey 
it. In a sound system of morality such contradictions would be 
impossible. There is a contradiction even in terms. In one 
place he says, “ Wherever there is a right in one person there is 
a corresponding obligation upon others.” 7 In another place, 

1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. B. 2, c. 4. 2 B. 2, c. 4: Note. 3 B. 6, c. 3. 

4 B. 2, c. 6. 5 B. 3, p. 3, c. 2. 6 B. 6, p. 3, c. 10. 7 B. 2, c. 9. 


C 


18 


APPLICATION OF PRINCIPLES, &c. Essay 1. 

“ The right of the magistrate to ordain and the obligation of the 
subject to obey, in matters of religion, may be very different ” x 
Perhaps the reader will say that these inconsistencies, however 
they may impeach the skilfulness of the writer, do not prove that 
his system is unsound, or that Utility is not still the ultimate 
standard of rectitude. We answer, that to a Christian writer, 
such inconsistencies are unavoidable. He is obliged, in con¬ 
formity with the principles of his religion, to acknowledge the 
divine, and therefore the supreme authority of Scripture; and if, 
in addition to this, he assumes that any other is supreme, incon¬ 
sistency must ensue. For the same consequence follows the 
adoption of any other ultimate standard—whether sympathy, or 
right reason, or eternal fitness, or nature. If the writer is a 
Christian he cannot, without falling into inconsistencies, assert the 
supremacy of any of these principles: that is to say, when the 
precepts of Scripture dictate one action, and a reasoning from his 
principle dictates another, he must make his election: If he pre¬ 
fers his principle, Christianity is abandoned: if he prefers Scrip¬ 
ture, his principle is subordinate: if he alternately prefers the 
one and the other, he falls into the vacillation and inconsistency 
of which we speak. 

Bearing still in mind that the rule “ to endeavour to produce 
the greatest happiness in our power,” is objectionable only when 
it is made an ultimate rule, the reader is invited to attend to these 
short considerations. 

I. In computing human happiness, the advocate of Expediency 
does not sufficiently take into the account our happiness in futurity. 
Nor indeed does he always take it into account at all. One defi¬ 
nition says, “ The test of the morality of an act is its tendency to 
promote the temporal advantage of the greatest number in the 
society to which we belong.” Now many things may be very 
expedient if death were annihilation, which may be very inexpe¬ 
dient now: and therefore it is not unreasonable to expect, nor an 
unreasonable exercise of humility to act upon the expectation, 
that the divine laws may sometimes impose obligations of which 
we do not perceive the expediency or the use. “ It may so fall 
out,” says Hooker, “ that the reason why some laws of God were 
given, is neither opened nor possible to be gathered by the wit of 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. B. 6, p. 3, c. 10. 




Chap. 2 . 


DIFFICULTIES ATTENDING IT. 


19 


man ” 1 And Pearson says, “ There are many parts of morality, as 
taught by revelation, which are entirely independent of an accu¬ 
rate knowledge of nature.” 2 And Gisborne, “ Our experience of 
God’s dispensations by no means permits us to affirm, that he 
always thinks fit to act in such a manner as is productive of par¬ 
ticular expediency ; much less to conclude that he wills us always 
to act in such a manner as we suppose w r ould be productive of it.” 3 
All this sufficiently indicates that Expediency is wholly inadmis¬ 
sible as an ultimate rule. 

II. The doctrine is altogether unconnected with the Christian 
revelation or with any revelation from heaven. It was just as 
true, and the deductions from it just as obligatory, two or five 
thousand years ago as now. The alleged supreme law of mo¬ 
rality— “ Whatever is expedient is right”— might have been 
taught by Epictetus as well as by a modern Christian. But are 
we then to be told that the revelations from the Deity have con¬ 
veyed no moral knowledge to man? that they make no act 
obligatory which was not obligatory before ? that he who had the 
fortune to discover that “ whatever is expedient is right,” pos¬ 
sessed a moral law just as perfect as that which God has ushered 
into the world, and much more comprehensive ? 

III. If some subordinate rule of conduct were proposed, — 
some principle which served as an auxiliary moral guide, — I 
should not think it a valid objection to its truth, to be told that no 
sanction of the principle was to be found in the written revelation : 
but if some rule of conduct were proposed as being of universal 
obligation, some moral principle which was paramount to every 
other—and I discovered that this principle was unsanctioned by 
the written revelation, I should think this want of sanction was con¬ 
clusive evidence against it: because it is not credible that a revela¬ 
tion from God, of which one great object was to teach mankind 
the moral law of God, would have been silent respecting a rule of 
conduct which was to be an universal guide to man. We apply 
these considerations to the doctrine of Expediency : Scripture 
contains not a word upon the subject. 

IV. The principles of Expediency necessarily proceed upon 
the supposition that we are to investigate the future, and this 
investigation is, as every one knows, peculiarly without the limits 

1 Eccles. Polity, b. 3, s. 10. 2 Theory of Morals: c. 3. 

3 Principles of Mor. Phil. 




20 DIFFICULTIES ATTENDING IT. Essay I. 

of human sagacity: an objection which derives additional force 
from the circumstance that an action, in order to he expedient, 
“ must be expedient on the whole, at the long run, in all its effects 
collateral and remote.” 1 I do not know whether, if a man should 
sit down expressly to devise a moral principle which should be 
uncertain and difficult in its application, he could devise one that 
would be more difficult and uncertain than this. So that, as Dr. 
Paley himself acknowledges, “ It is impossible to ascertain every 
duty by an immediate reference to public utility.” 2 The reader 
may therefore conclude with Dr. Johnson, that “ by presuming to 
determine what is fit and what is beneficial, they presuppose more 
knowledge of the universal system than man has attained, and 
therefore depend upon principles too complicated and extensive for 
our comprehension: and there can be no security in the consequence 
when the premises are not understood .” 3 

Y. But whatever may be the propriety of investigating all 
consequences “ collateral and remote,” it is certain that such an 
investigation is possible only in that class of moral questions 
which allows a man time to sit down and deliberately to think 
and compute. As it respects that large class of cases in which a 
person must decide and act in a moment, it is wholly useless. 
There are thousands of conjunctures in life in which a man can 
no more stop to calculate effects collateral and remote, than he 
can stop to cross the Atlantic : and it is difficult to conceive that 
any rule of morality can be absolute and universal, which is totally 
inapplicable to so large a portion of human affairs. 

YI. Lastly, the rule of Expediency is deficient in one of the 
first requisites of a moral law—obviousness and palpability of 
sanction. What is the process by which the sanction is applied 1 
Its advocates say, the Deity is a benevolent Being : as he is 
benevolent himself, it is reasonable to conclude he wills that his 
creatures should be benevolent to one another: this benevolence 
is to be exercised by adapting every action to the promotion of 
the “ universal interest” of man: “ Whatever is “ expedient is 
right:” or, God wills that we should consult Expediency.—Now 
we say that there are so many considerations placed between the 
rule and the act, that the practical authority of the rule is greatly 
diminished. It is easy to perceive that the authority of a rule 
will not come home to that man’s mind, who is told, respecting a 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. B. 2, c. 8. 2 B. 6, c. 12. 3 Western Isles. 




Chap. 2 . 


LIABILITY TO ABUSE. 


21 


given action, that its effect upon the universal interest is the only 
thing that makes it right or wrong. All the doubts that arise as 
to this effect are so many diminutions of the sanction. It is like 
putting half a dozen new contingencies between the act of thieving 
and the conviction of a jury; and every one knows that the want 
of certainty of penalty is a great encouragement to offences. The 
principle too is liable to the most extravagant abuse—or rather 
extravagant abuse is, in the present condition of mankind, insepa¬ 
rable from its general adoption. “ Whatever is expedient is 
right,” soliloquizes the moonlight adventurer into the poultry 
yard: “ It will tend more to the sum of human happiness that my 
wife and I should dine on a capon, than that the farmer should 
feel the satisfaction of possessing it;”—and so he mounts the hen¬ 
roost. I do not say that this hungry moralist would reason 
soundly, but I say that he would not listen to the philosophy 
which replied, “ Oh, your reasoning is incomplete : you must 
take into account all consequences collateral and remote; and 
then you will find that it is more expedient, upon the whole and 
at the long run, that you and your wife should be hungry, than 
that hen-roosts should be insecure.” 

It is happy, however, that this principle never can be generally 
applied to the private duties of man. Its abuses would be so 
enormous that the laws would take, as they do in fact take, 
better measures for regulating men’s conduct than this doctrine 
supplies. And happily, too, the Universal Lawgiver has not left 
mankind without more distinct and more influential perceptions of 
his will and his authority, than they could ever derive from the 
principles of Expediency. 


But an objection has probably presented itself to the reader, 
that the greater part of mankind have no access to the written 
expression of the Will of God; and how, it may be asked, can 
that be the final standard of right and wrong for the human race, 
of which the majority of the race have never heard 1 The question 
is reasonable and fair. 

We answer then, first, that supposing most men to be destitute 
of a communication of the divine will, it does not affect the obliga¬ 
tions of those who do possess it. That communication is the final 
law to me, whether my African brother enjoys it or not. Every 




22 


PAGANS. 


Essay 1 . 


reason by which the supreme authority of the law is proved, is 
just as applicable to those who do enjoy the communication of it, 
whether, that communication is enjoyed by many or by few: and 
this, so far as the argument is concerned, appears to be a sufficient 
answer. If any man has no direct access to his Creator’s will, 
let him have recourse to “ eternal fitnesses,” or to “ expediency 
but his condition does not affect that of another man who does 
possess this access. 

But our real reply to the objection is, that they who are desti¬ 
tute of Scripture, are not destitute of a direct communication of the 
Will of God. The proof of this position must be deferred to a 
subsequent chapter; and the reader is solicited for the present, to 
allow us to assume its truth. This direct communication may be 
limited, it may be incomplete, but some communication exists ; 
enough to assure them that some things are acceptable to the 
Supreme Power, and that some are not; enough to indicate a 
distinction between right and wrong; enough to make them moral 
agents, and reasonably accountable to our Common Judge. If 
these principles are true, and especially if the amount of the 
communication is in many cases considerable, it is obvious that it 
will be of great value in the direction of individual conduct. We 
say of individual conduct, because it is easy to perceive that it 
would not often subserve the purposes of him who frames public 
rules of morality. A person may possess a satisfactory assurance 
in his own mind, that a given action is inconsistent with the 
Divine Will, but that assurance is not conveyed to another, unless 
he participates in the evidence upon which it is founded. That 
which is wanted in order to supply public rules for human conduct, 
is a publicly avouched authority; so that a writer, in deducing 
those rules, has to apply, ultimately, to that Standard which God 
has publicly sanctioned. 



CHAPTER III 


SUBORDINATE STANDARDS OF RIGHT AND WRONG. 

The written expression of the Divine Will does not contain, 
and no writings can contain, directions for our conduct in every 
circumstance of life. If the precepts of Scripture were multiplied 
a hundred or a thousand fold, there would still arise a multiplicity 
of questions to which none of them w r ould specifically apply. 
Accordingly, there are some subordinate authorities, to which, as 
can be satisfactorily shown, it is the Will of God that we should 
refer. He who does refer to them and regulate his conduct by 
them, conforms to the will of God. 

To a son who is obliged to regulate all his actions by his father’s 
will, there are two ways in which he may practise obedience— 
one, by receiving, upon each subject, his father’s direct instruc¬ 
tions, and the other, by receiving instructions from those whom 
his father commissions to teach him. The parent may appoint a 
governor, and enjoin that upon all questions of a certain kind the 
son shall conform to his instructions: and if the son does this, he 
as truly and really performs his father’s will, and as strictly makes 
that will the guide of his conduct, as if he received the instruc¬ 
tions immediately from his parent. But if the father have laid 
down certain general rules for his son’s observance, as that he 
shall devote ten hours a day to study and not less—although the 
governor should recommend or even command him to devote fewer 
hours, he may not comply; for if he does, the governor and not 
his father is his supreme guide. The subordination is destroyed. 

This case illustrates, perhaps with sufficient precision, the situ¬ 
ation of mankind with respect to moral rules. Our Creator has 
given direct laws, some general and some specific. These are of 
final authority. But he has also sanctioned, or permitted an ap¬ 
plication to, other rules; and in conforming to these, so long as 
we hold them in subordination to his laws, we perform his will. 





24 


SUBORDINATE MORAL RULES. 


Essay 1 . 


Qf these subordinate rules it were possible to enumerate many. 
Perhaps, indeed, few principles have been proposed as “ The fun¬ 
damental Rules of Virtue,” which may not rightly be brought into 
use by the Christian in regulating his conduct in life : for the ob¬ 
jection to many of these principles is, not so much that they are 
useless, as that they are unwarranted as paramount laws. “ Sym¬ 
pathy” may be of use, and “ Nature” may be of use, and “ Self- 
love,” and “ Benevolence;” and, to those who know what it means, 
“ Eternal fitnesses” too. 

Some of the subordinate rules of conduct it will be proper 
hereafter to notice, in order to discover, if we can, how far their 
authority extends and where it ceases. The observations that we 
shall have to offer upon them may conveniently be made under 
these heads : The Law of the Land : The Law of Nature: The 
promotion of human happiness, or Expediency : The Law of Na¬ 
tions : The Law of Honour. 

These observations will however necessarily be preceded by an 
inquiry into the great principles of human duty as they are deli¬ 
vered in Scripture, and into the reality of that communication of 
the divine will to the mind, which the reader has been requested 
to allow us to assume. 



CHAPTER IV. 


COLLATERAL OBSERVATIONS. 


The reader is requested to regard the present chapter as parenthetical. The pa¬ 
renthesis is inserted here, because the writer does not know where more appropriately 
to place it. 


IDENTICAL AUTHORITY OF MORAL AND RELIGIOUS OBLIGATIONS. 

This identity is a truth to which we do not sufficiently advert 
either in our habitual sentiments or in our practice. There are 
many persons who speak of religiom duties, as if there was some¬ 
thing sacred or imperative in their obligation that does not belong 
to duties of morality,—many, who would perhaps offer up their 
lives rather than profess a belief in a false religious dogma, but 
who would scarcely sacrifice an hour’s gratification rather than 
violate the moral law of love. It is therefore of importance to 
remember, that the authority ivhich imposes moral obligations and 
religious obligations is one and the same —the will of God. Fide¬ 
lity to God is just as truly violated by a neglect of his moral laws 
as by a compromise of religious principles. Religion and Mora¬ 
lity are abstract terms, employed to indicate different classes of 
those duties which the Deity has imposed upon mankind: but 
they are all imposed by Him, and all are enforced by equal autho¬ 
rity. Not indeed that the violation of every particular portion of 
the Divine Will involves equal guilt, but that each violation is 
equally a disregard of the Divine Authority. Whether, therefore, 
fidelity be required to a point of doctrine or of practice, to theo¬ 
logy or to morals, the obligation is the same. It is the Divine 
requisition which constitutes this obligation, and not the nature of 
the duty required: so that, whilst I think a protestant does no 
more than his duty when he prefers death to a profession of the 
Roman Catholic faith, I think also that every Christian who be- 





THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 


26 


Essay 1. 


lieves that Christ has prohibited swearing, does no more than his 
duty when he prefers death to taking an oath. 

I would especially solicit the reader to bear in mind this prin¬ 
ciple of the identity of the authority of moral and religious obli¬ 
gations, because he may otherwise imagine that, in some of the 
subsequent pages, the obligation of a moral law is too strenuously 
insisted on, and that fidelity to it is to be purchased at “ too great 
a sacrifice” of ease and enjoyment. 


THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES. 

The purpose for which a reference is here made to these sacred 
subjects, is to remark upon the unfitness of attempting to deduce 
human duties from the attributes of God. It is not indeed to be 
affirmed that no illustration of those duties can be derived from 
them, but that they are too imperfectly cognizable by our percep¬ 
tions to enable us to refer to them for specific moral rules. The 
truth indeed is, that we do not accurately and distinctly know 
what the Divine Attributes are. We say that God is merciful: 
but if we attempt to define, with strictness, what the term merci¬ 
ful means, we shall find it a difficult, perhaps an impracticable 
task : and especially we shall have a difficult task if, after the 
definition, we attempt to reconcile every appearance which pre¬ 
sents itself in the world, with our notions of the attribute of 
mercy. I would speak with reverence when I say, that we can¬ 
not always perceive the mercifulness of the Deity in his adminis¬ 
trations, either towards his rational or his irrational creation. So 
again in respect of the attribute of Justice : who can determinately 
define in what this attribute consists'? Who, especially, can prove 
that the Almighty designs that we should always be able to trace 
his justice in his government ? We believe that He is unchange¬ 
able : but what is the sense in which we understand the term ? 
Do we mean that the attribute involves the necessity of an un¬ 
changing system of moral government, or that the Deity cannot 
make alterations in, or additions to, his laws for mankind? We 
cannot mean this, for the evidence of revelation disproves it. 

Now if it be true that the Divine Attributes, and the uniform 
accordancy of the divine dispensations with our notions of those 
attributes, are not sufficiently within our powers of investigation 



VIRTUE. 


27 


Chap. 4. 

to enable us to frame accurate premises for our reasoning, it is 
plain that we cannot always trust with safety to our conclusions. 
We cannot deduce rules for our conduct from the Divine Attri¬ 
butes, without being very liable to error; and the liability will 
increase in proportion as the deduction attempts critical accuracy. 

Yet this is a rock upon which the judgments of many have 
suffered wreck, a quicksand where many have been involved in 
inextricable difficulties. One, because he cannot reconcile the 
commands to exterminate a people with his notions of the attri¬ 
bute of mercy, questions the truth of the Mosaic writings. One, 
because he finds wars permitted by the Almighty of old, concludes 
that, as he is unchangeable, they cannot be incompatible with his 
present or his future Will. One, on the supposition of this un¬ 
changeableness, perplexes himself because the dispensations of 
God and his laws have been changed; and vainly labours, by 
classifying these laws into those which result from his attributes 
and those which do not, to vindicate the immutability of God. 
We have no business with these things: and I will venture to 
affirm that he who will take nothing upon trust—who will exer« 
cise no faith—who will believe in the divine authority of no rule, 
and in the truth of no record, which he is unable to reconcile with 
the Divine Attributes—must be consigned to hopeless Pyrrhonism. 

The lesson which such considerations teach is a simple but an 
important one: That our exclusive business is, to discover the 
actual present will of God, without inquiring why his will is such 
as it is, or why it has ever been different; and without seeking 
to deduce, from our notions of the Divine Attributes, rules of 
conduct which are more safely and more certainly discovered by 
other means. 


VIRTUE. 

The definitions which have been proposed of Virtue have neces¬ 
sarily been both numerous and various, because many and dis¬ 
cordant standards of rectitude have been advanced; and virtue 
must, in every man’s system, essentially consist in conforming the 
conduct to the standard which he thinks is the true one. This 
must be true of those systems, at least, which make Virtue con¬ 
sist in doing right.—Adam Smith indeed says, that “ Virtue is 




28 MOTIVES OF ACTION. Essay 1. 

excellence; something uncommonly great and beautiful, which 
rises far above what is vulgar and ordinary.” 1 By which it would 
appear that virtue is a relative quality, depending not upon some 
perfect or permanent standard, but upon the existing practice of 
mankind. Thus the action which possessed no virtue amongst a 
good community, might possess much in a bad one. The practice 
which “ rose far above” the ordinary practice of one nation, might 
be quite common in another : and if mankind should become much 
worse than they are now, that conduct would be eminently virtu¬ 
ous amongst them which now is not virtuous at all. That such a 
definition of virtue is likely to lead to very imperfect practice is 
plain; for what is the probability that a man will attain to that 
standard which God proposes, if his utmost estimate of virtue 
rises no higher than to an indeterminate superiority over other 
men? 

Our definition of Virtue necessarily accords with the Principles 
of Morality which have been advanced in the preceding chapter: 
Virtue is conformity with the Standard of Rectitude; which 
standard consists, primarily, in the expressed will of God. 

Virtue, as it respects the meritoriousness of the agent, is an¬ 
other consideration. The quality of an action is one thing, the 
desert of the agent is another. The business of him who illus¬ 
trates moral rules, is not with the agent but with the act. He 
must state what the moral law pronounces to be right and wrong : 
but it is very possible that an individual may do what is right 
without any virtue, because there may be no rectitude in his mo¬ 
tives and intentions. He does a virtuous act, but he is not a vir¬ 
tuous agent. 

Although the concern of a work like the present is evidently 
with the moral character of actions without reference to the mo¬ 
tives of the agent, yet the remark may be allowed, that there is 
frequently a sort of inaccuracy and unreasonableness in the judg¬ 
ments which we form of the deserts of other men. We regard 
the act too much, and the intention too little. The footpad who 
discharges a pistol at a traveller and fails in his aim, is just as 
wicked as if he had killed him; yet we do not feel the same de¬ 
gree of indignation at his crime. So, too, of a person who does 
good. A man who plunges into a river and saves a child from 
drowning, impresses the parents with a stronger sense of his de- 
1 Theo. Mor. Sent. 




Chap. 4 . 


MOTIVES OF ACTION. 


29 


serts than if, with the same exertions, he had failed.—We should 
endeavour to correct this inequality of judgment, and in forming 
our estimates of human conduct, should refer, much more than we 
commonly do, to what the agent intends. It should habitually be 
borne in mind, and especially with reference to our own conduct, 
that to have been unable to execute an ill intention deducts no¬ 
thing from our guilt; and that at that tribunal where intention 
and action will be both regarded, it will avail little if we can only 
say that we have done no evil. Nor let it be less remembered, 
with respect to those who desire to do good but have not the 
power, that their virtue is not diminished by their want of ability. 
I ought perhaps to be as grateful to the man who feelingly com¬ 
miserates my sufferings but cannot relieve them, as to him who 
sends me money or a physician. The mite of the widow of old 
was estimated even more highly than the greater offerings of the 
rich. 



CHAPTER V. 


SCRIPTURE. 


THE MORALITY OF THE PATRIARCHAL, MOSAIC, AND CHRISTIAN 
DISPENSATIONS. 

One of the very interesting considerations which are presented 
to an inquirer in perusing the volume of Scripture, consists in 
the variations in its morality. There are three distinctly defined 
periods, in which the moral government and laws of the Deity 
assume, in some respects, a different character. In the first, 
without any system of external instruction, he communicated his 
will to some of our race, either immediately or through a super¬ 
human messenger. In the second, he promulgated, through Mo¬ 
ses, a distinct and extended^code of laws, addressed peculiarly to 
a selected people. In the third, Jesus Christ and his commis¬ 
sioned ministers delivered precepts, of which the general charac¬ 
ter was that of greater purity or perfection, and of which the 
obligation was universal upon mankind. 

That the records of all these dispensations contain declarations 
of the will of God, is certain : that their moral requisitions are 
not always coincident, is also certain; and hence the conclusion 
becomes inevitable, that to us, one is of primary authority;— 
that when all do not coincide, one is paramount to the others. 
That a coincidence does not always exist, may easily be shown. 
It is manifest, not only by a comparison of precepts and of the 
general tenor of the respective records, but from the express de¬ 
clarations of Christianity itself. 

One example, referring to the Christian and Jewish dispensa¬ 
tions, may be found in the extension of the law of Love. Christ¬ 
ianity in extending the application of this law, requires us to 
abstain from that, which the law of Moses permitted us to do. 




Chap. 5 . 


IMPERFECT COINCIDENCE. 


31 


Thus it is in the instance of duties to our “ neighbour,” as they 
are illustrated in the parable of the Samaritan. 1 Thus, too, in 
the sermon on the mount: “ It hath been said by them of old 
time, Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine enemy: but 
I say unto you, Love your enemies.” 2 It is indeed sometimes 
urged that the words “ hate thine enemy,” were only a gloss of 
the expounders of the law: but Grotius writes thus : “ what is 
there repeated as said to those of old, are not the words of the 
teachers of the law, but of Moses; either literally or in their 
meaning. They are cited by our Saviour as his express words, 
not as interpretations of them.” 3 If the authority of Grotius 
should not satisfy the reader, let him consider such passages as 
this : “ An Ammonite or a Moabite shall not enter into the con¬ 
gregation of the Lord. Because they met you not with bread 
and with water in the way, when ye came forth out of Egypt. 
Thou shalt not seek their peace nor their prosperity all thy days 
forever.” 4 This is not coincident with, “ Lore your enemies;” 
or with, “ Do good to them that hate you ;” or with that temper 
which is recommended by the words, “ to him that smiteth thee 
on one cheek, turn the other also.” 5 

“ Pour out thy fury upon the heathen that know thee not, and 
upon the families that call not on thy name,” 6 —is not coincident 
with the reproof of Christ to those who, upon similar grounds, 
would have called down fire from heaven. 7 “ The Lord look 
upon it and require it,” 8 —is not coincident with, “Lord, lay not 
this sin to their charge.” 9 “ Let me see thy vengeance on 
them,” 10 —“Bring upon them the day of evil, and destroy them 
with double destruction,” 11 —is not coincident with, “ Forgive 
them, for they know not what they do.” 12 

Similar observations applying to Swearing, to Polygamy, to 
Retaliation, to the motives of murder and adultery. 

And as to the express assertion of the want of coincidence :—- 
“ The law made nothing perfect, but the bringing in of a better 
hope did.” 13 “ There is verily a disannulling of the command¬ 

ment going before, for the weakness and unprofitableness there¬ 
of.” 14 If the commandment now existing is not weak and unpro- 

1 Luke x. 30. 2 Matt. v. 43. 3 Rights of War and Peace. 

4 Deut. xxiii. 3, 4. 6. 5 Matt. v. 39. 6 Jer. x. 25. 7 Luke ix. 54. 

8 2 Chron. xxiv. 22. 9 Acts vii. 60. 10 Jer. xx. 12. 11 Jer. xvii. 18. 

12 Luke xxiii. 34. 13 Heb. vii. 19. 14 Heb. vii. 18. 



32 SUPREMACY OF THE Essay 1. 

fitable, it must be because it is superior to that which existed 
before. 

But although this appears to be thus clear with respect to the 
Jewish dispensation, there are some who regard the moral pre¬ 
cepts which were delivered before the period of that dispensation, 
as imposing permanent obligations : they were delivered, it is 
said, not to one peculiar people, but to individuals of many; and, 
in the persons of the immediate survivors of the deluge, to the 
whole human race. This argument assumes a ground paramount 
to all questions of subsequent abrogation. Now it would appear 
a sufficient answer to say,—If the precepts of the Patriarchal 
and Christian dispensations are coincident, no question needs to 
be discussed; if they are not, we must make an election; and 
surely the Christian cannot doubt what election he should make. 
Could a jew have justified himself for violating the Mosaic law, 
by urging the precepts delivered to the patriarchs 1 No. Neither 
then can we justify ourselves for violating the Christian law, by 
urging the precepts delivered to Moses. 

We, indeed, have, if it be possible, still stronger motives. 
The moral law of Christianity binds us, not merely because it is 
the 'present expression of the Will of God, but because it is a 
portion of his last dispensation to man,—of that which is avow¬ 
edly not only the last, but the highest and the best. We do not 
find in the records of Christianity that which we find in the other 
Scriptures, a reference to a greater and purer dispensation yet to 
come. It is as true of the Patriarchal as of the Mosaic insti¬ 
tution, that “ it made nothing perfect,” and that it referred us, 
from the first, to “ the bringing in of that better hope which did.” 
If then the question of supremacy is between a perfect and an 
imperfect system, who will hesitate in his decision 1 

There are motives of gratitude, too, and of affection, as. well 
as of reason. The clearer exhibition which Christianity gives of 
the attributes of God ; its distinct disclosure of our immortal des¬ 
tinies ; and above all, its wonderful discovery of the love of our 
Universal Father, may well give to the moral law with which 
they are connected, an authority which may supersede every 
other. 

These considerations are of practical importance; for it may 
be observed of those who do not advert to them, that they some¬ 
times refer indiscriminately to the Old Testament or the New, 



Chap. 5. 


CHRISTIAN MORALITY. 


33 


without any other guide than the apparent greater applicability of 
a precept in the one or the other, to their present need: and thus 
it happens that a rule is sometimes acted upon, less perfect than 
that by which it is the good pleasure of God we should now regu¬ 
late our conduct.—It is a fact which the reader should especially 
notice, that an appeal to the Hebrew Scriptures is frequently made 
when the precepts of Christianity would be too rigid for our pur¬ 
pose. He who insists upon a pure morality, applies to the New 
Testament: he who desires a little more indulgence, defends him¬ 
self by arguments from the Old. 

Of this indiscriminate reference to all the dispensations, there 
is an extraordinary example in the newly discovered work of 
Milton. He appeals, I believe, almost uniformly to the precepts 
of all, as of equal present obligation. The consequence is what 
might be expected—his moral system is not consistent. Nor is it 
to be forgotten, that in defending what may be regarded as less 
pure doctrines, he refers mostly, or exclusively, to the Hebrew 
Scriptures. In all his disquisitions to prove the lawfulness of un¬ 
truths, he does not once refer to the New Testament. 1 Those 
who have observed the prodigious multiplicity of texts which he 
cites in this work, will peculiarly appreciate the importance of 
the fact.—Again: “Hatred,” he says, “ is in some cases a reli¬ 
gious duty.” 2 A proposition at which the Christian may reason¬ 
ably wonder. And how does Milton prove its truth ] He cites 
from Scripture ten passages; of which eight are from the Old 
Testament and two from the New. The reader will be curious 
to know what these two are:—" If any man come to me and 
hate not his father and mother—he cannot be iriy disciple.” 3 
And the rebuke to Peter; “Get thee behind me Satan.” 4 The 
citation of such passages shows that no passages to the purpose 
could be found. 

It may be regarded therefore as a general rule, that none of the 
injunctions or permissions which formed a part of the former dis¬ 
pensations, can be referred to as of authority to us, except so far 
as they are coincident with the Christian law. To our own Mas¬ 
ter we stand or fall; and our Master is Christ.—And in esti¬ 
mating this coincidence, it is not requisite to show that a given 
rule or permission of the former dispensations is specifically su¬ 
perseded in the New Testament. It is sufficient if it is not 
1 Christian Doctrine: p. 660. 2 p. 641. 3 Luke xiv. 26. 4 Mark viii. 33. 

D 


34 


NOTICES OF THEORIES. 


Essay 1 . 


accordant with the general spirit; and this consideration assumes 
greater weight when it is connected with another which is here¬ 
after to be noticed,—that it is by the general spirit of the Christ¬ 
ian morality that many of the duties of man are to be discovered. 

Yet it is always to be remembered, that the laws which are 
thus superseded were, nevertheless, the laws of God. Let not 
the reader suppose that we would speak or feel respecting them 
otherwise than with that reverence which their origin demands, 
—or that we would take any thing from their present obligation 
but that which is taken by the Lawgiver himself. It may indeed 
be observed, that in all his dispensations there is a harmony, 
a one pervading principle, which, without other evidence, indi¬ 
cates that they proceeded from the same authority. The vari¬ 
ations are circumstantial rather than fundamental; and after all, 
the great principles in which they accord, far outweigh the parti¬ 
cular applications in which they differ. The Mosaic Dispensa¬ 
tion was “a school master” to bring us, not merely through the 
medium of types and prophecies, but through its moral law, to 
Christ. Both the one and the other were designed as prepa¬ 
ratives ; and it was probably as true of these moral laws as of 
the prophecies, that the Jews did not perceive their relationship 
to Christianity as it was actually introduced into the world. 


Respecting the variations of the moral law, some persons 
greatly and very needlessly perplex themselves by indulging in 
such questions as these :—“ If,” say they, “ God be perfect, and 
if all the dispensations are communications of his will, how hap¬ 
pens it that they are not uniform in their, requisitions ] How 
happens it that that which was required by Infinite Knowledge 
at one time, was not required by Infinite Knowledge at another] ” 
I answer,—I cannot tell. And what then ] Does the inquirer 
think this a sufficient reason for rejecting the authority of the 
Christian law ] If inability to discover the reasons of the moral 
government of God be a good motive to doubt its authority, we 
may involve ourselves in doubts without end. — Why does a 
Being who is infinitely pure permit moral evil in the world] 
Why does he who is perfectly benevolent permit physical suffer¬ 
ing ] Why did he suffer our first parents to fall ] Why, after 
they had fallen, did he not immediately repair the loss ] Why 




Chap. 5 . 


NOTICES OF THEORIES. 


35 


was the Messiah’s appearance deferred for four thousand years 1 
Why is not the religion of the Messiah universally known and 
universally operative at the present day 1 To all these questions, 
and to many others, no answer can be given: and the difficulty 
arising from them is as great, if we choose to make difficulties 
for ourselves, as that which arises from variations in his moral 
laws. Even in infidelity we shall find no rest: the objections 
lead us onward to atheism. He who will not believe in a Deity 
unless he can reconcile all the facts before his eyes with his 
notions of the divine attributes, must deny that a Deity exists. 
I talked of rest : — Alas! there is no rest in infidelity or in 
atheism. To disbelieve in revelation or in God, is not to escape 
from a belief in things which you do not comprehend, but to 
transfer your belief to a new class of such things. Unbelief is 
credulity. The infidel is more credulous than the Christian, and 
the atheist is the most credulous of mankind: that is, he believes 
important propositions upon less evidence than any other man, 
and in opposition to greater. 

It is curious to observe the anxiety of some writers to recon¬ 
cile some of the facts before us with the “moral perfections” of 
the Deity; and it is instructive to observe into what doctrines 
they are led. They tell us that all the evil and all the pain in the 
world, are parts of a great system of Benevolence. “ The moral 
and physical evil observable in the system, according to'men’s 
limited views # of it, are necessary parts of the great plan; all 
tending ultimately to produce the greatest sum of happiness upon 
the whole, not only with respect to the system in general, but to 
each individual, according to the station he occupies in it.” 1 
They affirm that God is an “ allwise Being who directs all the 
movements of nature, and who is determined, by his own unal¬ 
terable perfections, to maintain in it at all times, the greatest pos¬ 
sible quantity of happiness.” 2 The Creator found, therefore, that 
to inflict the misery which now exists, was the best means of pro¬ 
moting this happiness—that to have abated the evil, the suffering, 
or the misery, would be to have diminished the sum of felicity— 
and that men could not have been better or more at ease than 

1 This is given as the belief of Dr. Priestly. See Memoirs: Ap. No. 5. 

2 Adam Smith: Theory of Moral Sentiments. See also T. Southwood Smith’s 
Illustrations of the Divine Government, in which unbridled licence of speculation 
has led the writer into some instructive absurdities. 


36 NO FORMAL MORAL SYSTEM IN SCRIPTURE. Essay 1. 

they are, without making them on the whole more vicious or un- 
happy! — These things are beacons which should warn us. The 
speculations show that not only religion, hut reason, dictates the 
propriety of acquiescing in that degree of ignorance in which it 
has pleased God to leave us; because they show, that attempts 
to acquire knowledge may conduct us to folly. These are sub¬ 
jects upon which he acts most rationally, who says to his reason— 
be still. 


MODE OF APPLYING THE PRECEPTS OF SCRIPTURE TO QUESTIONS 

OF DUTY. 

It is remarkable that many of these precepts, and especially 
those of the Christian Scriptures, are delivered, not systematically 
but occasionally. They are distributed through occasional dis¬ 
courses and occasional letters. Except in the instance of the law 
of Moses, the speaker or writer rarely set about a formal exposi¬ 
tion of moral truth. The precepts were delivered as circum¬ 
stances called them forth or made them needful. There is nothing 
like a system of morality; nor, consequently, does there exist 
that completeness, that distinctness in defining and accuracy in 
limiting, which, in a system of morality, we expect to find. 
Many rules are advanced in short absolute prohibitions or injunc¬ 
tions, without assigning any of those exceptions to their practical 
application, which the majority of such rules require.—The in¬ 
quiry, in passing, may be permitted—Why are these things so ? 
When it is considered what the Christian dispensation is, and 
what it is designed to effect upon the conduct of man, it cannot be 
supposed that the incompleteness of its moral precepts happened 
by inadvertence. The precepts of the former dispensation are 
much more precise; and it is scarcely to be supposed that the 
more perfect dispensation would have had a less precise law, un¬ 
less the deficiency were to be compensated from some other 
authoritative source :—which remark is offered as a reason, a 
j priori , for expecting that, in the present dispensation, God would 
extend the operation of his law written in the heart. 

But whatever may be thought of this, it is manifest that con¬ 
siderable care is requisite in the application of precepts, so deli¬ 
vered, to the conduct of life. To apply them in all cases literally, 
were to act neither reasonably nor consistently with the design of 




37 


Chap. 5. CRITICISM OF BIBLICAL MORALITY. 

the Lawgiver: to regard them in all cases as mere general direc¬ 
tions, and to subject them to the unauthorized revision of man, 
were to deprive them of their proper character and authority as 
divine laws. In proposing some grounds for estimating the prac¬ 
tical obligation of these precepts, I would be first allowed to ex¬ 
press the conviction, that the simple fact that such a disquisition 
is needed, and that the moral duties are to be gathered rather by 
implication or general tenor than from specific and formal rules, is 
one indication amongst the many, that the dispensation of which 
these precepts form a part, stands not in words but in power: 
and I hope to be forgiven, even in a book of morality, if I express 
the conviction that none can fulfil their requisitions,—that none 
indeed can appreciate them,—without some participation in this 
“power.” I say he cannot appreciate them. Neither the morals 
nor the religion of Christianity can be adequately estimated by the 
man who sits down to the New Testament, with no other prepa¬ 
ration than that which is necessary in sitting down to Euclid or 
Newton. There must be some preparation of heart as well as 
integrity of understanding,—or, as the appropriate language of 
the volume itself would express it, it is necessary that we should 
become, in some degree, the “sheep” of Christ before we can 
accurately “know his voice.” 

There is one clear and distinct ground upon which we may 
limit the application of a precept that is couched in absolute lan¬ 
guage—the unlawfulness, in any given conjuncture, of obeying it. 
“ Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man.” 1 This, literally, 
is an unconditional command. But if we were to obey it uncondi¬ 
tionally, we should sometimes comply with human, in opposition 
to divine laws. In such cases then, the obligation is clearly sus¬ 
pended ; and this distinction the first teachers of Christianity re¬ 
cognized in their own practice. When an “ ordinance of man” 
required them to forbear the promulgation of the new religion, 
they refused obedience; and urged the befitting expostulation,— 
“ Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you 
more than unto God, judge ye.” 2 So, too, with the filial rela¬ 
tionship : “ Children obey your parents in all things.” 3 But a 
parent may require his child to lie or steal; and therefore when 
a parent requires obedience in such things his authority ceases, 
and the obligation to obedience is taken away by the moral law 

1 1 Pet. ii. 13. 2 Acts iv. 19. 3 Col. iii. 20. 



38 


CRITICISM OF 


Essay 1 . 


itself. The precept, so far as the present ground of exception 
applies, is virtually this: Obey your parents in all things, unless 
disobedience is required by the will of God. Or the subject 
might be illustrated thus : The Author of Christianity reprobates 
those who love father or mother more than himself. The para¬ 
mount love to God is to be manifested by obedience. 1 So then 
we are to obey the commands of God in preference to those of 
our parents. “All human authority ceases at the point where 
obedience becomes criminal.” 2 

Of some precepts, it is evident that they were designed to be 
understood conditionally. “When thou prayest enter into thy 
closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father 
which is in secret.” 3 This precept is conditional. I doubt not 
that it is consistent with his will that the greater number of the 
supplications which man offers at his throne shall be offered in 
secret; yet, that the precept does not exclude the exercise of 
public prayer is evident from this consideration, if from no other, 
that Christ and his apostles themselves practised it. 

Some precepts are figurative, and describe the spirit and tem¬ 
per that should govern us, rather than the particular actions that 
we should perform. Of this there is an example in, “Whoso¬ 
ever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain.” 4 In 
promulgating some precepts, a principal object appears to have 
been, to supply sanctions. Thus in the case of Civil Obedience : 
we are to obey because the Deity authorizes the institution of 
Civil Government ,—because the magistrate is the minister of 
God for good; and accordingly, we are to obey not from consider¬ 
ations of necessity only, but of duty; “ not only for wrath, but 
for conscience sake.” 5 One precept, if we accepted it literally, 
would enjoin us to “hate” our parents; and this acceptation, 
Milton appears actually to have adopted. One would enjoin us 
to accumulate no property : “ Lay not up for yourselves trea¬ 
sures upon earth.” 6 Such rules are seldom mistaken in practice; 
and, it may be observed, that this is an indication of their practi¬ 
cal wisdom, and their practical adaptation to the needs of man. 
It is not an easy thing to pronounce, as occasions arise, a large 
number of moral precepts in unconditional language, and yet to 
secure them from the probability of even great misconstructions. 

1 If ye love me ye will keep my commandments. John xiv. 15. 

2 Mor. and Pol. Phil. 3 Matt. vi. 6. 4 Matt. v. 41. 

6 Matt. vi. 19. 


5 Rom. xiii. 5, 


Chap. 5. BIBLICAL MORALITY. 39 

Let the reader make the experiment.—Occasionally, but it is 
only occasionally, a sincere Christian, in his anxiety to conform 
to the moral law, accepts such precepts in a more literal sense 
than that in which they appear to have been designed to be 
applied. I once saw a book that endeavoured to prove the un¬ 
lawfulness of accumulating any property; upon the authority, 
primarily, of this last quoted precept. The principle upon which 
the writer proceeded was just and right,—that it is necessary to 
conform, unconditionally, to the expressed will of God. The de¬ 
fect was in the criticism; that is to say, in ascertaining what 
that will did actually require. 

Another obviously legitimate ground of limiting the applica¬ 
tion of absolute precepts, is afforded us in just biblical criticism. 
Not that critical disquisitions are often necessary to the upright 
man who seeks for the knowledge of his duties. God has not left 
the knovdedge of his moral law so remote from the sincere 
seekers of his will. But in deducing public rules as authoritative 
upon mankind, it is needful to take into account those consider¬ 
ations which criticism supplies. The construction of the original 
languages and their peculiar phraseology, the habits, manners, 
and prevailing opinions of the times, and the circumstances under 
which a precept was delivered, are evidently amongst these con¬ 
siderations. And literary criticism is so much the more needed, 
because the great majority of mankind have access to Scripture 
only through the medium of translations. 

But in applying all these limitations to the absolute precepts of 
Scripture, it is to be remembered that we are not subjecting their 
authority to inferior principles. We are not violating the prin¬ 
ciple upon which these essays proceed, that the expression of the 
Divine Will is our ultimate law. We are only ascertaining what 
that expression is. If, after just and authorized examination, any 
precept should still appear to stand imperative in its absolute 
form, we accept it as obligatory in that form. Many such pre¬ 
cepts there are; and being such, we allow no considerations of 
convenience, nor of expediency, nor considerations of any other 
kind, to dispense with their authority. 

One great use of such inquiries as these, is to vindicate to the 
apprehensions of men the authority of the precepts themselves. 
It is very likely to happen, and to some negligent inquirers it 
does happen, that seeing a precept couched in unconditional lan- 


40 


SPIRIT OF THE MORAL LAW. 


Essay 1 . 


guage, which yet cannot be unconditionally obeyed, they call in 
question its general obligation. Their minds fix upon the idea of 
some consequences which would result from a literal obedience, 
and feeling assured that those consequences ought not to be un¬ 
dertaken, they set aside the precept itself. They are at little 
pains to inquire what the proper requisitions of the precept are, 
—glad, perhaps, of a specious excuse for not regarding it at all. 
The careless reader, perceiving that a literal compliance with the 
precept to give the cloak to him who takes a coat, would be nei¬ 
ther proper nor right, rejects the whole precept of which it forms 
an illustration; and in doing this, rejects one of the most beauti¬ 
ful, and important, and sacred requisitions of the Christian law. 1 


There are two modes in which moral obligations are imposed 
in Scripture,—by particular precepts, and by general rules. The 
one prescribes a duty upon one subject, the other upon very 
many. The applicability of general rules is nearly similar to that 
of what is usually called the spirit of the gospel, the spirit of the 
moral law : which spirit is of very wide embrace in its applica¬ 
tion to the purposes of life. “ In estimating the value of a moral 
rule, we are to have regard not only to the particular duty, but 
the general spirit; not only to what it directs us to do, but to the 
character which a compliance with its direction is likely to form 
in us.” 2 In this manner, some particular precepts become, in 
fact, general rules; and the duty that results from these rules, 
from this spirit, is as obligatory as that which is imposed by a 
specific injunction. Christianity requires us to maintain universal 
benevolence towards mankind; and he who, ia his conduct to¬ 
wards another, disregards this benevolence, is as truly and some¬ 
times as flagrantly a violator of the moral law, as if he had trans¬ 
gressed the command, “Thou shalt not steal.” This doctrine is 
indeed recommended by a degree of utility that makes its adop¬ 
tion almost a necessity; because no number cf specific precepts 
w r ould be sufficient for the purposes of moral instruction: so that 
if we were destitute of this species of general rules, we should 
frequently be destitute, so far as external precepts are concerned, 
of any. It appears by a note to the work which has just been 
cited, that in the Mussulman code, which proceeds upon the sys- 

1 Matt. v. 38. 2 Evidences of Christianity : p. 2 , c. 2. 



MATT. vii. 12. 


41 


Chap. 5. 


tem of a precise rule for a precise question, there have been pro¬ 
mulgated seventy-five thousand precepts. I regard the wide prac¬ 
tical applicability of some of the Christian precepts as an argu¬ 
ment of great wisdom. They impose many duties in few words; 
or rather they convey a great mass of moral instruction within a 
sentence that all may remember and that few can mistake. “ All 
things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye 
even so to them,” 1 is of greater utility in the practice of life, and 
is applicable to more circumstances, than a hundred rules which 
presented the exact degree of kindness or assistance that should 
be afforded in prescribed cases. The Mosaic law, rightly re¬ 
garded, conveyed many clear expositions of human duty ; yet the 
quibbling and captious scribes of old found, in the literalities of 
that law, more plausible grounds for evading its duties, than can 
be found in the precepts of the Christian Scriptures. 


There are a few precepts of which the application is so exten¬ 
sive in human affairs, that I would, in conformity with some of 
the preceding remarks, briefly inquire into their practical obliga¬ 
tion. Of these, that which has just been quoted for another 
purpose, “ All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to 
you, do ye even so to them,” 2 is perhaps cited and recommended 
more frequently than any other. The difficulty of applying this 
precept has induced some to reject it as containing a moral maxim 
which is not sound : but perhaps it will be found, that the defi¬ 
ciency is not in the rule but in the non-applicability of the cases 
to which it has often been applied. It is not applicable when 
the act which another would that we should do to him, is in itself 
unlawful or adverse to some other portion of the Moral Law. 
If I seize a thief in the act of picking a pocket, he undoubtedly 
ftwould” that I should let him go ; and I, if our situations were 
exchanged, should wish it too. But I am not therefore to release 
him; because, since it is a Christian obligation upon the magis¬ 
trate to punish offenders, the obligation descends to me to secure 
them for punishment. Besides, in every such case I must do as 
I would be done unto with respect to all parties concerned,—the 
public as well as the thief. The precept, again, is not applicable 
when the desire of the second party is such as a Christian cannot 
1 Matt. vii. 12. 2 Ibid. 



42 


1 COR. X. 31. 


Essay 1 . 


lawfully indulge. An idle and profligate man asks me to give 
him money. It would be wrong to indulge such a man’s desire, 
and therefore the precept does not apply. 

The reader will perhaps say, that a person’s duties in such 
cases are sufficiently obvious without the gravity of illustration. 
Well,—but are the principles upon which the duties are ascer¬ 
tained thus obvious ] This is the important point. In the affairs 
of life, many cases arise in which a person has to refer to such 
principles as these, and in which, if he does not apply the right 
principles, he will transgress the Christian law. The law appears 
to be in effect this, Do as you would be done unto, except in 
those instances in which to act otherwise is permitted by Christ¬ 
ianity. Inferior grounds of limitation are often applied; and they 
are always wrong; because they always subject the moral law to 
suspension by inferior authorities. To do this, is to reject the 
authority of the Divine Will, and to place this beautiful expres¬ 
sion of that will at the mercy of every man’s inclination. 

“ Whether ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the 
glory of God.” 1 I have heard of the members of some dinner 
club who had been recommended to consider this precept, and 
who in their discussions over the bottle, thought perhaps that 
they were arguing soundly when they held language like this: 
“ Am I, in lifting this glass to my mouth, to do it for the purpose 
of bringing glory to God 1 Is that to be my motive in buying a 
horse or shooting a pheasant]” From such moralists much saga¬ 
city of discrimination was not to be expected; and these questions 
delighted and probably convinced the club. The mistake of these 
persons, and perhaps of some others, is, that they misunderstand 
the rule. The promotion of the Divine glory is not to be the 
motive and purpose of all our actions, but, having actions to per¬ 
form, we are so to perform them that this glory shall be advanced. 
The precept is in effect, Let your actions and the motives of them 
be such, that others shall have reason to honour God: 2 —and a 
precept like this is a very sensitive test of the purity of our con¬ 
duct. I know not whether there is a single rule of Christianity 
of which the use is so constant and the application so universal. 
To do as we would be done by, refers to relative duties; Not to 

1 1 Cor. x. 31. 

2 “ Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works, and 
glorify your Father which is in heaven.” Matt. v. 16. 


Chap. 5. 


ROM. iii. 8. 


43 


do evil that good may come, refers to particular circumstances: 
hut, To do all things so that the Deity may be honoured, refers to 
almost every action of a man’s life. Happily the Divine glory 
is thus promoted by some men even in trifling affairs—almost 
whether they eat or drink, or whatsoever thing they do. There 
is, in truth, scarcely a more efficacious means of honouring the 
Deity, than the observing a constant Christian manner of con¬ 
ducting our intercourse with men. He who habitually maintains 
his allegiance to religion and to purity, who is moderate and 
chastized in all his pursuits, and who always makes the prospects 
of the future predominate over the temptations of the present, is 
one of the most efficacious recommenders of goodness,—one of the 
most impressive “ preachers of righteousness,”—and by conse¬ 
quence, one of the most efficient promoters of the glory of God. 

By a part of Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, it appears that he 
and his coadjutors had been reported to hold the doctrine, that it 
is lawful “ to do evil that good may come.” 1 This report he de¬ 
clares is slanderous ; and expresses his reprobation of those who 
act upon the doctrine, by the short and emphatic declaration,—• 
their condemnation is just. This is not critically a prohibition, 
but it is a prohibition in effect; and the manner in which the 
doctrine is reprobated, induces the belief that it was so flagitious 
that it needed very little inquiry or thought: in the writer’s mind 
the transition is immediate, from the idea of the doctrine to the 
punishment of those who adopt it. 

Now the “evil” which is thus prohibited, is, any thing and 
all things discordant with the divine will; so that the unsophisti¬ 
cated meaning of the rule is, that nothing which is contrary to 
the Christian law may be done for the sake of attaining a benefi¬ 
cial end. Perhaps the breach of no moral rule is productive of 
more mischief than of this. That “the end justifies the means,” 
is a maxim which many, who condemn it as a maxim, adopt in 
their practice: and in political affairs it is not only habitually 
adopted, but is indirectly, if not openly, defended as right. If a 
senator were to object to some measure of apparent public expe¬ 
diency, that it was not consistent with the moral law, he would 
probably be laughed at as a fanatic or a fool: yet perhaps some 
who are flippant with this charge of fanaticism and folly may be 
in perplexity for a proof. If the expressed will of God is our 

1 Rom. iii. 8. 


44 


ROM. iii. 8. 


Essay 1 . 


paramount law, no proof can be brought; and in truth it is not 
often that it is candidly attempted. I have not been amongst the 
least diligent inquirers into the moral reasonings of men, but 
honest and manly reasoning against this portion of Scripture I 
have never found. 

Of the rule, “not to do evil that good may come,” Dr. Paley 
says, that it “is, for the most part, a salutary caution.” A per¬ 
son might as well say that the rule “ not to commit murder” is a 
salutary caution. There is no caution in the matter, but an im¬ 
perative law. But he proceeds:—“ Strictly spea.king, that can¬ 
not be evil from which good comes.” 1 Now let the reader consi¬ 
der :—Paul says, You may not do evil that good may come : Aye 
hut, says the philosopher, if good does come, the acts that bring it 
about are not evil\ What the apostle would have said of such a 
reasoner, I will not trust my pen to suppose. The reader will 
perceive the foundation of this reasoning. It assumes that good 
and evil are not to be estimated by the expressions of the Will of 
God, but by the effects of actions. The question is clearly fun¬ 
damental. If expediency be the ultimate test of rectitude, Dr. 
Paley is right; if the expressions of the Divine Will are the ulti¬ 
mate test, he is wrong. You must sacrifice the one authority or 
the other. If this Will is the greater, consequences are not: if 
consequences are the greater, this Will is not. But, this ques¬ 
tion is not now to be discussed: it may however be observed, 
that the interpretation which the rule has been thus made to bear, 
appears to be contradicted by the terms of the rule itself. The 
rule of Christianity is, Evil may not be committed for the pur¬ 
pose of good: the rule of the philosophy is, Evil may not be com¬ 
mitted except for the purpose of good. Are these precepts iden¬ 
tical ? Is there not a fundamental variance, an absolute contra¬ 
riety between them! Christianity does not speak of evil and 
good as contingent, but as fixed qualities. You cannot convert 
the one into the other by disquisitions about expediency. In mo¬ 
rals, there is no philosopher’s stone that can convert evil into 
good with a touch. Our labours, so long as the authority of the 
Moral Law is acknowledged, will end like those of the physical 
alchymist: after all our efforts at transmutation, lead will not be¬ 
come gold,—evil will not become good. However, there is one 
subject of satisfaction in considering such reasonings as these. 

1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 2, c. 8. 




45 


Chap . 5. THE BENEVOLENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. 

They prove, negatively, the truth which they assail; for that 
against which nothing but sophistry can be urged, is undoubtedly 
true. The simple truth is, that if evil may be done for the sake 
of good, all the precepts of Scripture which define or prohibit 
evil are laws no longer; for that cannot in any rational use of 
language be called a law in respect of those to whom it is di¬ 
rected, if they are at liberty to neglect it when they think fit. 
These precepts may be advices, recommendations, “ salutary cau¬ 
tions,” but they are not laws. They may suggest hints, but they 
do not impose duties. 

With respect to the legitimate grounds of exception or limit¬ 
ation in the application of this rule, there appear to be few or 
none. The only question is, What actions are evil! Which 
question is to be determined, ultimately, by the will of God. 


BENEVOLENCE, AS IT IS PROPOSED IN THE CHRISTIAN SCRIP¬ 
TURES. 

In inquiring into the great principles of that moral system 
which the Christian revelation institutes, we discover one remark¬ 
able characteristic, one pervading peculiarity by which it is dis¬ 
tinguished from every other,—the paramount emphasis which it 
lays upon the exercise of pure Benevolence. It will be found 
that this preference of “Love” is wise as it is unexampled, and 
that no other general principle would effect, with any approach 
to the same completeness, the best and highest purposes of moral¬ 
ity. How easy soever it be for us, to whom the character and 
obligations of this benevolence are comparatively familiar, to per¬ 
ceive the wisdom of placing it at the foundation of the Moral Law, 
we are indebted for the capacity, not to our own sagaciousness, 
but to light which has been communicated from heaven. That 
schoolmaster the law of Moses never taught, and the speculations 
of philosophy never discovered, that Love was the fulfilment of 
the Moral Law. Eighteen hundred years ago this doctrine was 
a new commandment. 

Love is made the test of the validity of our claims to the 
Christian character—“ By this shall all men know that ye are my 
disciples.” 1 Again, “—Love one another. He that loveth ano- 

1 John xiii. 35. 



46 


THE BENEVOLENCE 


Essay 1 . 


ther hath fulfilled the law. For this, Thou shalt not commit 
adultery, Thou shalt not kill, Thou shalt not bear false witness, 
thou shalt not covet; and if there be any other commandment, it 
is briefly comprehended in this saying, namely, Thou shalt love 
thy neighbour as thyself. Love worketh no ill to his neighbour : 
therefore Love is the fulfilling of the law.” 1 It is not therefore 
surprising that after an enumeration, in another place, of various 
duties, the same dignified apostle says, “Above all these things 
put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness .” 2 The inculca¬ 
tion of this Benevolence is as frequent in the Christian Scriptures 
as its practical utility is great. He who will look through the 
volume will find that no topic is so frequently introduced, no obli¬ 
gation so emphatically enforced, no virtue to which the approba¬ 
tion of God is so specially promised. It is the theme of all the 
“ apostolic exhortations, that with which their morality begins 
and ends, from which all their details and enumerations set out 
and into which they return.” 3 “ He that dwelleth in love dwell- 
eth in God, and God in him.” 4 More emphatical language cannot 
be employed. It exalts to the utmost the character of the virtue, 
and in effect, promises its possessor the utmost favour and felicity. 
If then, of Faith, Hope, and Love, Love be the greatest; if it 
be by the test of love that our pretensions to Christianity are to 
be tried; if all the relative duties of morality are embraced in 
one word, and that word is Love ; it is obviously needful that, in 
a book like this, the requisitions of Benevolence should be habi¬ 
tually regarded in the prosecution of its inquiries. And accord¬ 
ingly the reader will sometimes be invited to sacrifice inferior 
considerations to these requisitions, and to give to the law of 
Love that paramount station in which it has been placed by the 
authority of God. 

It is certain that almost every offence against the relative 
duties, has its origin, if not in the malevolent propensities, at 
least in those propensities which are incongruous with love. I 
know not whether it is possible to disregard any one obligation 
that respects the intercourse of man with man, without violating 
this great Christian law. This universal applicability may easily 
be illustrated by referring to the obligations of Justice , obligations 
which, in civilized communities, are called into operation more 

1 Rom. xiii. 9. 2 Col. iii. 14. 3 Evid. Christianity, p. 2, c. 2. 

4 1 John iv. 16. 


OF CHRISTIANITY. 


47 


Chap. 5. 


frequently than almost any other. He who estimates the obliga¬ 
tions of justice by a reference to that Benevolence which Christ¬ 
ianity prescribes, will form to himself a much more pure and 
perfect standard than he who refers to the law of the land, to the 
apprehension of exposure, or to the desire of reputation. There 
are many ways in which a man can be unjust without censure 
from the public, and without violating the laws; but there is no 
way in which he can be unjust without disregarding Christian 
Benevolence. It is an universal and very sensitive test. He who 
does regard it, who uniformly considers whether his conduct to¬ 
wards another is consonant with pure good will, cannot be volun¬ 
tarily unjust; nor can he who commits injustice do it without the 
consciousness, if he will reflect, that he is violating the law of 
Love. That integrity which is founded upon Love, when com¬ 
pared with that which has any other basis, is recommended by 
its honour and dignity as well as by its rectitude. It is more 
worthy the man as well as the Christian, more beautiful in the 
eye of infidelity as well as of religion. 

It were easy, if it were necessary, to show in what manner 
the law of Benevolence applies to other relative duties, and in 
what manner, when applied, it purifies and exalts the fulfilment 
of them. But our present business is with principles rather than 
with their specific application. 

It is obvious that the obligations of this Benevolence are not 
merely.prohibitory,—directing us to avoid “ working ill” to ano¬ 
ther, but mandatory,—requiring us to do him good. That bene¬ 
volence which is manifested only by doing no evil, is indeed of a 
very questionable kind. To abstain from injustice, to abstain 
from violence, to abstain from slander, is compatible with an ex¬ 
treme deficiency of love. There are many who are neither slan¬ 
derous, nor ferocious, nor unjust, who have yet very little regard 
for the benevolence of the gospel. In the illustrations therefore 
of the obligations of morality, whether private or political, it will 
sometimes become our business to state, what this Benevolence 
requires as well as what it forbids. The legislator whose laws 
are contrived only for the detection and punishment of offenders, 
fulfils but half his duty : if he would conform to the Christian 
standard, he must provide also for their reformation. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD. 

The reader is solicited to approach this subject with that men¬ 
tal seriousness which its nature requires. Whatever be his opi¬ 
nions upon the subject, whether he believes in the reality of such 
communication or not, he ought not even to think respecting it 
but with feelings of seriousness. 

In endeavouring to investigate this reality, it becomes espe¬ 
cially needful to distinguish the communication of the Will of 
God from those mental phenomena with which it has very com¬ 
monly been intermingled and confounded. The want of this dis¬ 
tinction has occasioned a confusion which has been greatly inju¬ 
rious to the cause of truth. It has occasioned great obscurity of 
opinion respecting divine instruction; and by associating error 
with truth, has frequently induced scepticism respecting the truth 
itself.—When an intelligent person perceives that infallible truth 
or divine authority is described as belonging to the dictates of 
“ Conscience,” and when he perceives, as he must perceive, that 
these dictates are various and sometimes contradictory; he is in 
danger of concluding that no unerring and no divine guidance is 
accorded to man. 

Upon this serious subject it is therefore peculiarly necessary to 
endeavour to attain distinct ideas, and to employ those w r ords 
only which convey distinct ideas to other men. The first section 
of the present chapter will accordingly be devoted to some brief 
observations respecting the Conscience, its nature, and its autho¬ 
rity ; by which it is hoped the reader will see sufficient reason to 
distinguish its dictates from that higher guidance, respecting 
which it is the object of the present chapter to enquire. 

For a kindred purpose, it appears requisite to offer a short 
review of popular and philosophical opinions respecting a Moral 
Sense. These opinions will be found to have been frequently 



Chap. 6. 


NATURE OF THE CONSCIENCE. 


49 


expressed in great indistinctness and ambiguity of language. 
The purpose of the writer in referring to these opinions, is to in¬ 
quire whether they do not generally involve a recognition—ob¬ 
scurely perhaps, but still a recognition—of the principle, that 
God communicates his will to the mind. If they do this, and if 
they do it without design or consciousness, no trifling testimony 
is afforded to the truth of the principle : for how should this prin¬ 
ciple thus secretly recommend itself to the minds of men, except 
by the influence of its own evidence \ 


SECTION i. 


CONSCIENCE, ITS NATURE AND AUTHORITY. 

In the attempt to attach distinct notions to the term “ Con¬ 
science,” we have to request the reader not to estimate the accu¬ 
racy of our observations by the notions which he may have habit¬ 
ually connected with the word. Our disquisition is not about 
terms but truths. If the observations are in themselves just, our 
principal object is attained. The secondary object, that of con¬ 
necting truth with appropriate terms, is only so far attainable by 
a writer, as shall be attained by an uniform employment of words 
in determinate senses in his own practice. 

Men possess notions of right and wrong ; they possess a belief 
that, under given circumstances, they ought to do one thing or to 
forbear another. This belief I would call a conscientious belief. 
And when such a belief exists in a man’s mind in reference to a 
number of actions, I would call the sum or aggregate of his 
notions respecting what is right and wrong, his Conscience. 

To possess notions of right and wrong in human conduct,—to 
be convinced that we ought to do or to forbear an action, — 
implies and supposes a sense of obligation existent in the mind. 
A man who feels that it is wrong for him to do a thing, possesses 
a sense of obligation to refrain. Into the origin of this sense of 
obligation, or how it is induced into the mind, we do not inquire : 
it is sufficient for our purpose that it exists; and there is no rea¬ 
son to doubt that its existence is consequent of the will of God. 

E 





50 NATURE OF THE CONSCIENCE. Essay 1. 

In most men—perhaps in all—this sense of obligation refers, 
with greater or less distinctness, to the will of a superior being. 
The impression, however obscure, is in general fundamentally 
this : I must do so or so, because God requires it. 

It is found that this sense of obligation is sometimes connected, 
in the minds of separate individuals, with different actions. One 
man thinks he ought to do a thing from which another thinks he 
ought to forbear. Upon the great questions of morality there is 
indeed in general a congruity of human judgment; yet subjects 
do arise respecting which one man’s conscience dictates an act, 
different from that which is dictated by another’s. It is not there¬ 
fore essential to a conscientious judgment of right and wrong, 
that that judgment should be in strict accordance with the Moral 
Law. Some men’s consciences dictate that which the Moral Law 
does not enjoin; and this law enjoins some points which are not 
enforced by every man’s conscience. This is precisely the result 
which, from the nature of the case, it is reasonable to expect. 
Of these judgments respecting what is right, with which the 
sense of obligation becomes from time to time connected, some 
are induced by the instructions or example of others; some by 
our own reflection or inquiry; some perhaps from the written law 
of revelation; and some, as we have cause to conclude, from the 
direct intimations of the Divine Will. 

It is manifest that if the sense of obligation is sometimes con¬ 
nected with subjects that are proposed to us merely by the in¬ 
struction of others, or if the connection results from the power of 
association and habit, or from the fallible investigations of our 
own minds—that sense of obligation will be connected, in differ¬ 
ent individuals, with different subjects. So that it may some¬ 
times happen that a man can say, I conscientiously think I ought 
to do a certain action, and yet that his neighbour can say, I con¬ 
scientiously think the contrary. “ With respect to particular 
actions, opinion determines whether they are good or ill; and 
Conscience approves or disapproves, in consequence of this deter¬ 
mination, whether it be in favour of truth or falsehood.” 1 

Such considerations enable us to account for the diversity of 
the dictates of the conscience in individuals respectively. A per¬ 
son is brought up amongst catholics, and is taught from his child¬ 
hood that flesh ought not to be eaten in Lent. The arguments of 
1 Adventurer: No. 91. 




Chap. 6. 


NATURE OF THE CONSCIENCE. 


51 


those around him, or perhaps their authority, satisfy him that 
what he is taught is truth. The sense of obligation thus becomes 
connected with a refusal to eat flesh in Lent; and thenceforth he 
says that the abstinence is dictated by his conscience. A pro- 
testant youth is taught the contrary. Argument or authority 
satisfies him that flesh may lawfully be eaten every day in the 
year. His sense of obligation therefore is not connected with 
the abstinence; and thenceforth he says that eating flesh in Lent 
does not violate his conscience. And so of a multitude of other 
questions. 

When therefore a person says, My conscience dictates to me 
that I ought to perform such an action, he means—or in the use 
of such language he ought to mean—that the sense of obligation 
which subsists in his mind, is connected with that action; that, 
so far as his judgment is enlightened, it is a requisition of the law 
of God. 

But not all our opinions respecting morality and religion are 
derived from education or reasoning. He who finds in Scripture 
the precept, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,” derives 
an opinion respecting the duty of loving others from the discovery 
of this expression of the Will of God. His sense of obligation 
is connected with benevolence towards others, in consequence of 
this discovery;—or in other words, his understanding has been 
informed by the Moral Law, and a new duty is added to those 
which are dictated by his conscience. Thus it is that Scripture, 
by informing the judgment, extends the jurisdiction of conscience; 
and it is hence, in part, that in those who seriously study the 
Scriptures, the conscience appears so much more vigilent and 
operative than in many who do not possess, or do not regard 
them. Many of the mistakes which education introduces, many 
of the fallacies to which our own speculations lead us, are cor¬ 
rected by this law. In the case of our catholic, if a reference to 
Scripture should convince him that the judgment he has formed 
respecting abstinence from flesh is not founded on the Law of 
God, the sense of obligation becomes detached from its subject; 
and thenceforth his conscience ceases to dictate that he should 
abstain from flesh in Lent.—Yet Scripture does not decide every 
question respecting human duty, and in some instances indivi¬ 
duals judge differently of the decisions which Scripture gives. 
This, again, occasions some diversity in the dictates of the Con- 



52 AUTHORITY OF THE CONSCIENCE. Essay 1. 

science ; it occasions the sense of obligation to become connected 
with dissimilar, and possibly incompatible, actions. 

But another portion of men’s judgments respecting moral 
affairs, is derived from immediate intimations of the Divine Will. 
(This we must be allowed for the present to assume.) These 
intimations inform, sometimes, the judgment; correct its mis¬ 
takes ; and increase and give distinctness to our knowledge :— 
thus operating, as the Scriptures operate, to connect the sense of 
obligation more accurately with those actions which are conform¬ 
able with the will of God. It does not however follow, by any 
sort of necessity, that this higher instruction must correct all the 
mistakes of the judgment; that because it imparts some light, 
that light must be perfect day; that because it communicates 
some moral or religious truth, it must communicate all the truths 
of religion and morality. Nor, again, does it follow, that indi¬ 
viduals must each receive the same access of knowledge. It is 
evidently as possible that it should be communicated in different 
degrees to different individuals, as that it should be communicated 
at all. For which plain reasons we are still to expect, what in 
fact we find, that although the judgment receives light from a 
superhuman intelligence, the degree of that light varies in indi¬ 
viduals ; and that the sense of obligation is connected with fewer 
subjects, and attended with less accuracy, in the minds of some 
men than of others. 

With respect to the authority which properly belongs to Con¬ 
science as a director of individual conduct, it appears manifest 
alike from reason and from Scripture, that it is great. When a 
man believes, upon due deliberation, that a certain action is right, 
that action is right to him. And this is true, whether the action 
be or be not required of mankind by the Moral Law. 1 The fact 
that in his mind the sense of obligation attaches to the act, and 
that he has duly deliberated upon the accuracy of his judgment, 
makes the dictate of his Conscience upon that subject an authori¬ 
tative dictate. The individual is to be held guilty if he violates 
his Conscience,—if he does one thing, whilst his sense of obliga¬ 
tion is directed to its contrary. Nor, if his judgment should not 
be accurately informed, if his sense of obligation should not be 
connected with a proper subject, is the guilt of violating his Con- 

1 “ By Conscience, all men are restrained from intentional ill:—it infallibly directs 
us to avoid guilt, but is not intended to secure us from error.” Advent. No. 91. 




Chap. 6. AUTHORITY OF THE CONSCIENCE. 


53 


science taken away. Were it otherwise, a person might be held 
virtuous for acting in opposition to his apprehensions of duty; or 
guilty, for doing what he believed to be right. “ It is happy for 
us that our title to the character of virtuous beings, depends not 
upon the justness of our opinions or the constant objective recti¬ 
tude of all we do, but upon the conformity of our actions to the 
sincere convictions of our minds .” 1 Dr. Furneaux says, “ To 
secure the favour of God and the rewards of true religion, we 
must follow our own consciences and judgments according to the 
best light we can attain .” 2 And I am especially disposed to add 
the testimony of Sir William Temple, because he recognizes the 
doctrine which has just been advanced, that our judgments are 
enlightened by superhuman agency. “ The way to our future 
happiness must be left, at last, to the impressions made upon every 
man's belief and conscience, either by natural or supernatural 
arguments and means.” 3 —Accordingly there appears no reason to 
doubt that some will stand convicted in the sight of the Omniscient 
Judge, for actions which his Moral Law has not forbidden; and 
that some may be uncondemned for actions which that law does 
not allow, The distinction here is the same as that to which we 
have before had occasion to allude, between the desert of the 
agent and the quality of the act. Of this distinction an illustra¬ 
tion is contained in Isaiah x. It was the divine w r ill that a certain 
specific course of action should be pursued in punishing the Isra¬ 
elites. For the performance of this the king of Assyria was em¬ 
ployed :—“ I will give him a charge to take the spoil, and to take 
the prey, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets.” 
This charge the Assyrian monarch fulfilled;—he did the will of 
God: but then his intention was criminal; he “meant not so:” 
and therefore, when the “whole work” is performed,—“ I will 
punish ” says the Almighty, “ the fruit of the stout heart of the 
king of Assyria, and the glory of his high looks.” 

But it was said, that these principles respecting the authority 
of Conscience were recognized in Scripture.—“ One believeth that 
he may eat all things : another who is weak eateth herbs. One 
man esteemeth one day above another : another esteemeth every 
day alike.” Here then are differences, nay contrarieties of con¬ 
scientious judgments. And what are the parties directed severally 
to do]—“ Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind;” 

1 Dr. Price. 2 Essay on Toleration, p. 8. 3 Works : v. 1. p. 55. f. 1740. 


54 


AUTHORITY OF THE CONSCIENCE. Essay 1. 


that is, let the full persuasion of his own mind be every man’s 
rule of action. The situation of these parties was, that one per¬ 
ceived the truth upon the subject, and the other did not; that in 
one the sense of obligation was connected with an accurate, in 
the other with an inaccurate, opinion. Thus again :—“ / know, 
and am persuaded by the Lord Jesus, that there is nothing unclean 
of itself;”—-therefore, absolutely speaking, it is lawful to eat all 
things: “ but to him that esteemeth any thing to be unclean, to 
him it is unclean.” The question is not whether his judgment 
was correct, but what that judgment actually was. To the doubter, 
the uncleanness, that is, the sin of eating, was certain, though the 
act was right. Again: “ All things indeed are pure; but it is 
evil for that man who eateth with offence.” And again, as a 
general rule : “ He that doubteth is condemned if he eat, because 
he eateth not of faith : for whatsoever is not of faith, is sin.” 1 

And here we possess a sufficient answer to those who affect to 
make light of the authority of Conscience, and exclaim, “ Every 
man pleads his conscientious opinions, and that he is bound in 
conscience to db this or that; and yet his neighbour makes the 
same plea and urges the same obligation to do just the contrary 1 
But what then 1 These persons’ judgments differed: that we 
might expect, for they are fallible; but their sense of obligation 
was in each case really attached to its^subject, and was in each 
case authoritative. 

One observation remains; that although a man ought to make 
his conduct conform to his conscience, yet he may sometimes justly 
be held criminal for the errors of his opinion. Men often judge 
amiss respecting their duties, in consequence of their own faults : 
some take little pains to ascertain the truth; some voluntarily 
exclude knowledge; and most men would possess more accurate 
perceptions of the Moral Law, if they sufficiently endeavoured to 
obtain them. And therefore, although a man may not be punished 
for a given act which he ignorantly supposes to be lawful, he may 
be punished for that ignorance in which his supposition originates. 
Which consideration may perhaps account for the expression, that 
he who ignorantly failed to do his master’s will “ shall be beaten 
with few stripes.” There is a degree of wickedness, to the agents 
of which God at length “ sends strong delusion” that they may 
“ believe a lie.” In this state of strong delusion, they perhaps 

1 Rom. xiv. 




55 


Chap. 6. OPINIONS RESPECTING A MORAL SENSE. 

may, without violating any sense of obligation, do many wicked 
actions. The principles which have been here delivered, would 
lead us to suppose that the punishment which awaits such men, 
will have respect rather to that intensity of wickedness of which 
delusion was the consequence, than to those particular acts which 
they might ignorantly commit under the influence of the delusion 
itself. This observation is offered to the reader because some 
writers have obscured the present subject, by speculating upon 
the moral deserts of those desperately bad men, who occasionally 
have committed atrocious acts under the notion that they were 
doing right. 


Let us then, when we direct our serious inquiry to the Imme¬ 
diate Communication of the Divine Will, carefully distinguish 
that Communication from the dictates of the conscience. They 
are separate and distinct considerations. It is obvious that those 
positions which some persons advance;—“ Conscience is our in¬ 
fallible guide,”—“ Conscience is the voice of the Deity,” &c. are 
wholly improper and inadmissible. The term may indeed have 
been employed synonymously for the voice of God : but this ought 
never to be done. It is to induce confusion of language respect¬ 
ing a subject which ought always to be distinctly exhibited; and 
the necessity for avoiding ambiguity is so much the greater, as 
the consequences of that ambiguity are more serious: it is obvi¬ 
ous that, on'these subjects, inaccuracy of language gives rise to 
serious error of opinion. 


REVIEW OF OPINIONS RESPECTING A MORAL SENSE. 

The purpose for which this brief review is offered to the reader, 
is explained in very few words. It is to inquire, by a reference 
to the written opinions of many persons, whether they do not 
agree in asserting that our Creator communicates some portions 
of his Moral Law immediately to the human mind. These opinions 
are frequently delivered, as the reader will presently discover, in 
great ambiguity of language; but in the midst of this ambiguity 
there appears to exist one pervading truth,—a truth in testimony 
to which these opinions are not the less satisfactory because, in 




56 


HUTCHESON.—BUTLER.—BLAIR. 


Essay 1 . 


some instances, the testimony is undesigned. The reader is re¬ 
quested to observe, as he passes on, whether many of the difficul¬ 
ties which inquirers have found or made, are not solved by the 
supposition of a divine communication, and whether they can be 
solved by any other. 

“ The Author of nature has much better furnished us for a vir¬ 
tuous conduct than our moralists seem to imagine, by almost as 
quick and powerful instructions as we have for the preservation 
of our bodies.” 1 

“ It is manifest, great part of common language and of common 
behaviour over the world, is formed upon the supposition of a 
moral faculty, whether called conscience, moral reason, moral sense, 
or divine reason; whether considered as a sentiment of the un¬ 
derstanding, or as a perception of the heart, or, which seems the 
truth, as including both.” 2 Is it not remarkable that for a “ fa¬ 
culty” so well known “ over the world,” even a name has not been 
found, and that a Christian bishop accumulates a multiplicity of 
ambiguous epithets to explain his meaning! Bishop Butler says 
again of Conscience, “ To preside and govern, from the very eco¬ 
nomy and constitution of man, belongs to it. This faculty was 
placed within to be our proper governor, to direct and regulate all 
undue principles, passions, and motives of action.—It carries its 
own authority with it, that it is our natural guide, the guide as¬ 
signed us by the Author of our nature.” Would it have been 
unreasonable to conclude, that there was at least some connection 
between this reprover of “ all undue principles, passions, and 
motives,” and that law of which the New Testament speaks, 
“ All things that are reproved are made manifest by the light!” 3 

Blair says, “ Conscience is felt to act as the delegate of an in¬ 
visible Ruler;”—“ Conscience is the guide, or the enlightening 
or directing principle of our conduct.” 4 In this instance, as in 
many others, conscience appears to be used in an indeterminate 
sense. Conscience is not an enlightening principle, but a princi¬ 
ple which is enlightened. It is not a legislator, but a repository 
of statutes. Yet the reader will perceive the fundamental truth, 
that man is in fact illuminated, and illuminated by an invisible 
Ruler, In the thirteenth sermon there is an expression more dis¬ 
tinct : “ God has invested Conscience with authority to promul- 

1 Dr. Hutcheson: Inquiry concerning Moral Good and Evil. 

3 Bishop Butler: Inquiry on Virtue. 3 Eph. v. 13. 4 Sermons. 


Chap. 6 . RUSH.—BACON.—LE CLERC.—SHAFTESBURY. 57 


gate his laws.” It is obvious that the Divine Being must have 
communicated his laws, before they could have been promulgated 
by Conscience. In accordance with which the author says in an¬ 
other place, “ Under the tuition of God let us put ourselves.”— 
“ A Heavenly Conductor vouchsafes his aid .”—“ Divine light 
descends to guide our steps.” 1 It were to be wished that such 
sentiments were not obscured by propositions like these : “ A sense 
of right and wrong in conduct, or of moral good and evil, belongs 
to human nature .”—“ Such sentiments are coeval with human na¬ 
ture ; for they are the remains of a law which was originally 
written in our heart.” 2 

I do not know whether the reader will be able to perceive with 
distinctness the ideas of Lord Bacon and of Dr. Rush in the fol¬ 
lowing quotations, but I think he will perceive that they involve 
a recognition—obscure and indeterminate, but still a recognition 
—of the doctrine, that the Deity communicates his laws to the 
minds of men. Dr. Rush says, “ It would seem as if the Supreme 
Being had preserved the Moral Faculty in man from the ruins of 
his fall, on purpose to guide him back again to paradise ; and at 
the same time had constituted the Conscience, both in man and 
fallen spirits, a kind of royalty in his moral empire, on purpose 
to show his property in all intelligent creatures, and their original 
resemblance to himself.” And Lord Bacon says, “ The light of 
nature not only shines upon the human mind through the medium 
of a rational faculty, but by an internal instinct according to the 
law of conscience, which is a sparkle of the purity of man’s first 
estate.” 

“ The faculties of our minds are so formed by nature, that as 
soon as we begin to reason, we may also begin, in some measure, 
to distinguish good from evil.”—“ We prefer virtue to vice on 
account of the seeds planted in us.” 3 

The following is not the less worthy notice because it is from 
the pen of Lord Shaftesbury: “ Sense of right and wrong, being 
as natural to us as natural affection itself, and being a first prin¬ 
ciple in our constitution and make, there is no speculation, opi¬ 
nion, persuasion, or belief, which is capable, immediately or di¬ 
rectly, to exclude or destroy it.” 4 Sentiments such as these are 
very commonly expressed; and what do they imply I If sense of 
right and wrong is natural to us, it is because He who created us 
1 Sermon 7. 2 Sermon 13. 3 John Le Clerc. 4 Characteristics. 



58 


REID.—BEATTIE. 


Essay 1 . 


has placed it in our minds. The conclusion too is inevitable, that 
this sense must indicate the Divine Law by which right and 
wrong are discriminated. Now we do not say that these senti¬ 
ments are absolutely just, or that a sense of right and wrong is 
strictly “ natural” to man, but we say that the sentiments involve 
the supposition of some mode of Divine Guidance,—some mode 
in which the Moral Law of God, or a part of it, is communicated 
by Him to mankind. And if this be indeed true, it may surely, 
with all reason, be asked, why we should not assent to the reality 
of that mode of communication, of which, as we shall hereafter 
see, Christianity asserts the existence 1 

“ The first principles of morals are the immediate dictates of 
the moral faculty.”—“ By the moral faculty, or conscience, solely, 
we have the original conception of right and wrong.”—“ It is 
evident that this principle has, from its nature, authority to direct 
and determine with regard to our conduct; to judge, to acquit or 
condemn, and even to punish; an authority which belongs to no 
other principle of the human mind.”—“ The Supreme Being has 
given us this light within to direct our moral conduct.”—“ It is 
the candle of the Lord, set up within us to guide our steps.” 1 
This is almost the language of Christianity, “ That was the true 
Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.” 2 

1 do not mean to affirm that the author of the essays speaks ex¬ 
clusively of the same Divine Guidance as the apostle; but surely, 
if Conscience operates as such a “ light within,” as “ the candle 
of the Lord,” it can require no reasoning to convince us that it is 
illuminated from heaven. The indistinctness of notions which 
such language exhibits, appears to arise from inaccurate views of 
the nature of Conscience. The writer does not distinguish between 
the recipient and the source; between the enlightened principle 
and the enlightening beam. The apostle speaks only of the last; 
the uninspired inquirer speaks, without discrimination, of both ;— 
and hence the ambiguity. 

Dr. Beattie appears to maintain the same general principle, the 
same essential truth, under other phraseology. Common sense, 
he says, is “ that power of the mind which perceives truth or 
commands belief by an instantaneous, instinctive, and irresistible 
impulse, neither derived from education nor from habit, but from 
nature .”—■“ Every man may find the evidence of moral science 

1 Dr. Reid: Essays on the Powers of the Human Mind, Essay 3, c. 8, 8tc. 

2 John i. 9. 



Chap. 6 . 


PRICE.—WATTS.—CUDWORTH. 


59 


in his own breast.” An “ instinctive” perception of truth derived 
from nature, must necessarily be tantamount to a power of per¬ 
ception imparted by the Deity. “ Whatsoever nature does, God 
does,” says Seneca: and Dr. Beattie himself explains his own 
meaning —“ The dictates of nature, that is, the voice of God.” 1 
We have no concern with the justness of Beattie’s philosophy, in¬ 
tellectual or moral, but the reader will perceive the recognition of 
the truth, or of something like the truth, to which we have so 
often referred. 

“ What is the power within us that perceives the distinctions 
of right and wrong! My answer is, The Understanding.”—“ Of 
every thought, sentiment, and subject, the Understanding is the 
natural and ultimate judge.” This is the language of Dr. Price, 
but he does not seem wholly satisfied with his own definition. He 
says, “ The truth seems to be, that in contemplating the actions of 
moral agents, we have both a perception of the understanding, and 
a feeling of the heart.” And again, “ It is to intuition that we 
owe our moral ideas.” He speaks too of “ the virtuous principle,” 
—“ the inward spring of virtue;” and says, “ Goodness is the 
power of reflection, raised to its due seat of direction and sove¬ 
reignty in the mind.” These various expressions do not appear 
to represent very distinct notions, but after the “ Understanding” 
has been stated to be the ultimate judge, we are presented with 
the idea of Conscience, and then we perceive in Dr. Price’s lan¬ 
guage, that which we find in the language of so many others, 
“ Whatever our Consciences dictate to us, that He , (the Deity,) 
commands more evidently and undeniably, than if by a voice from 
heaven we had been called upon to do it.” 2 

Dr. Watts says that the mind “ contains in it the plain and 
general principles of morality, not explicitly as propositions, but 
only as native principles, by which it judges, and cannot but judge, 
virtue to be fit and vice unfit.” 3 

And Dr. Cudworth: The anticipations of morality do not 
spring merely from notional ideas, or from certain rules or propo¬ 
sitions arbitrarily printed upon the soul as upon a book, but from 
some other more inward and vital principle in intellectual beings 
as such, whereby they have a natural determination in them to do 
some things and to avoid others.” 4 

1 Essay on Truth. 2 Review of Principal Questions in Morals. 

3 Philosophical Essays. 4 Eternal and Immutable Morality. 


60 VOLTAIRE.—SHEPHERD.—LOCKE.—SOUTHEY. Essay 1. 


Voltaire in his Commentary on Beccaria 1 says, “ I call natural 
laws those which nature dictates, in all ages, to all men, for the 
maintenance of that Justice which she, (say what they will of 
her,) hath implanted in our hearts.” 

“ And this law is that innate sense of right and wrong, of vir¬ 
tue and vice, which every man carries in his own bosom.”— 
“ These impressions, operating on the mind of man, bespeak a 
law written on his hearty —“ This secret sense of right and wrong, 
for wise purposes so deeply implanted by our Creator on the hu¬ 
man mind, has the nature, force, and effect of a law.” 2 

Locke: “ The Divine law, that law which God has set to the 
actions of men, whether promulgated to them by the light of na¬ 
ture or the voice of revelation, is the measure of sin and duty. 
That God has given a rule whereby men should govern themselves, 
I think there is nobody so brutish as to deny.” 3 The reader 
should remark, that revelation and “ the light of nature” are here 
represented as being jointly and equally the law of God. 

“ Actions, then, instead of being tried by the eternal standard 
of right and wrong, on which the unsophisticated heart unerringly 
pronounces, were judged by the rules of a pernicious casuistry.” 4 
This may not be absolutely true; but there must be some truth 
which it is like, or such a proposition would not be advanced. 
Who ever thought of attributing to the unsophisticated heart the 
power of unerringly pronouncing on questions of prudence ? Yet 
questions of right and wrong are not, in their own nature, more 
easily solved than those of prudence. 

“ Boys do not listen to sermons. They need not be told what is 
right; like men they all know their duty sufficiently; the grand 
difficulty is to practise it.” 5 Neither may this be true ; and it is 
not true. But upon what species of knowledge would any writer 
think of affirming that boys need not be instructed, except upon 
the single species, the knowledge of duty ? And how should they 
know this without instruction, unless their Creator has taught 
them 1 

Dr. Rush exhibits the same views in a more determinate form: 
Happily for the human race, the intimations of duty and the road 
to happiness are not left to the slow operations or doubtful induc- 

1 Crimes and Punishments, Com. c. 14. 2 Dr. Shepherd’s Discourse on Fu¬ 
ture Existence. 3 Essay, b. 2, c. 28. 4 Dr. Southey: Book of the Church, c. 10. 

5 West. Rev. No. 1. 




Chap. 6 . 


RUSH.—SMITH,—PALEY. 


61 


tions of reason. It is worthy of notice, that while second thoughts 
are best in matters of judgment, first thoughts are always to he 
preferred in matters that relate to morality S’ 1 

Adam Smith: “ It is altogether absurd and unintelligible, to 
suppose that the first perceptions of right and wrong can be de¬ 
rived from reason. These first perceptions cannot be the object of 
reason, but of immediate sense and feeling.”—“ Though man has 
been rendered the immediate judge of mankind, an appeal lies from 
his sentence to a much higher tribunal, to the tribunal of their own 
Consciences, to that of the man within the breast, the great judge 
and arbiter of their conduct.” In some cases in which censure is 
violently poured upon us, the judgments of the man within, are, 
however, much shaken in the steadiness and firmness of their de¬ 
cision. In such cases, this demigod within the breast appears, 
like the demigods of the poets, though partly of immortal, yet 
partly too of mortal extraction.” Our moral faculties “were set 
up within us to be the supreme arbiters of all our actions.” “ The 
rules which they prescribe are to be regarded as the commands 
and laws of the Deity, promulgated by those vicegerents which 
he has thus set up within us.” “ Some questions must be left 
altogether to the decision of the man within the breast.” And 
let the reader mark what follows : If we “ listen with diligent and 
reverential attention to what he suggests to us, his voice will never 
deceive us. We shall stand in no need of casuistic rules to di¬ 
rect our conduct.” How wonderful that such a man, who uses 
almost the language of Scripture, appears not even to have thought 
of the truth,—“ The Anointing which ye have received of him 
abideth in you, and ye need not that any man teach you!” for he 
does not appear to have thought of it. He intimates that this 
vicegerent of God, this undeceiving Teacher to whom we are to 
listen with reverential attention, is some “ contrivance or mechan¬ 
ism within;” and says that to examine what contrivance or me¬ 
chanism it is, “is a mere matter of philosophical curiosity.” ! 2 

A matter of philosophical curiosity, Dr. Paley seems to have 
thought a kindred inquiry to be. He discusses the question, 
whether there is such a thing as a Moral Sense or not; and thus 
sums up the argument: “ Upon the whole it seems to me, either 
that there exist no such instincts as compose what is called the 
moral sense, or that they are not now to be distinguished from 

1 Influence of Physical Causes on the Moral Faculty. 2 Theory of Mor. Sent. 


62 


PALEY.—ROUSSEAU. 


Essay 1 . 


prejudices and habits.”—“ This celebrated question therefore be¬ 
comes, in our system, a question of pure curiosity; and as such, 
we dismiss it to the determination of those who are more inquisi¬ 
tive than we are concerned to be, about the natural history and 
constitution of the human species.” 1 But in another work, a work 
in which he did not bind himself to the support of a philosophical 
system, he holds other language: “ Conscience, our own Consci¬ 
ence, is to be our guide in all things.” “ It is through the whis¬ 
perings of Conscience that the Spirit speaks. If men are wilfully 
deaf to their Consciences they cannot hear the Spirit. If, hear¬ 
ing, if being compelled to hear the remonstrances of Conscience, 
they nevertheless decide and resolve and determine to go against 
them, then they grieve, then they defy, then they do despite to, 
the Spirit of God.” “ Is it superstition f Is it not on the contrary 
a just and reasonable piety to implore of God the guidance of his 
Holy Spirit when we have any thing of great importance to decide 
upon or undertake.”—“ It being confessed that we cannot ordina¬ 
rily distinguish, at the time, the suggestions of the Spirit from the 
operations of our minds, it may be asked, How are we to listen to 
them 1 The answer is, by attending, universally, to the admonitions 
within us.” 2 The tendency of these quotations to enforce our 
general argument, is plain and powerful. But the reader should 
notice here another and a very interesting consideration. Paley 
says, “ Our own Conscience is to be our guide in all things .”—We 
are to attend universally to the admonitions within us. Now he 
writes a book of moral philosophy, that is, a book that shall “ teach 
men their duty and the reasons of it,” and from this book he ab¬ 
solutely excludes this law which men should universally obey, this 
law which should be their “ guide in all things.” ! 

“ Conscience, Conscience,” exclaims Rousseau in his Pensees , 
“ Divine Instinct, Immortal and Heavenly Voice, sure Guide of a 
being ignorant and limited but intelligent and free, infallible Judge 
of good and evil, by which man is made like unto God!” Here 
are attributes which, if they be justly assigned, certainly cannot 
belong to humanity; or if they do belong to humanity, an apostle 
certainly could not be accurate when he said that in us, that is in 
our flesh, “ dwelleth no good thing .” Another observation of 
Rousseau’s is worth transcribing: “ Our own conscience is the 
most enlightened philosopher. There is no need to be acquainted 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 1, c. 5. 


2 Sermons. 



Chap. 6. MILTON.—HALE.—MARCUS ANTONINUS. 


63 


with Tully\Offices to make "a man of probity; and perhaps the 
most virtuous woman in the world is the least acquainted with the 
definition of virtue.” 

“ And I will place within them as a guide, 

My Umpire, Conscience; whom if they will near, 

Light after light, well used, they shall attain.” 1 

This is the language of Milton; and we have thus his testimony 
added to the many, that God has placed within us an Umpire 
which shall pronounce His own laws in our hearts. Thus in his 
“ Christian Doctrine’ ’ more clearly: “ They can lay claim to no¬ 
thing more than human powers, assisted by that spiritual illumi¬ 
nation which is common to all .” 2 

Judge Hale : “ Any man that sincerely and truly fears Almighty 
God, and calls and relies upon him for his direction, has it as really 
as a son has the counsel and direction of his father; and though 
the voice be not audible nor discernible by sense, yet it is equally 
as real as if a man ; heard a voice saying, This is the way, walk 
in it.” 

The sentiments of the ancient philosophers, &c. should not be 
forgotten, and the rather because their language is frequently much 
more distinct and satisfactory than that of the refined inquirers of 
the present day. 

Marcus Antoninus: “ He who is well disposed will do every 
thing dictated by the divinity,— a particle or portion of Himself, 
which God has given to each as a guide and a leader .” 3 -Aris¬ 

totle : “ The mind of man hath a near affinity to God: there is a 
divine ruler in him.” —Plutarch : “ The light of truth is a law, not 
written in tables or books but dwelling in the mind, always as a 
living rule which never permits the soul to be destitute of an inte¬ 
rior guide.”-Hieron says that the universal light, shining in 

the Conscience, is “ a domestic God, a God within the hearts and 

souls of men.”-Epictetus : “ God has assigned to each man a 

director, his own good genius, a guardian whose vigilance no slum¬ 
bers interrupt, and whom no false reasonings can deceive. So 
that when you have shut your door, say not that you are alone, 
for your God is within.—What need have you of outward light 
to discover what is done, or to light to good actions, who have God 
or that genius or divine principle for your light]” 4 Such citations 

1 Par. Lost, iii. 194. 2 p. 81. 3 Lib. 5, Sect. 27. 4 Lib. 1, c. 14. 





64 


IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION, &c. Essay 1. 


might be greatly multiplied, but one more must suffice. Seneca 
says, “We find felicity—in a pure and untainted mind, which if 
it were not holy were not jit to entertain the Deity.” How like 
the words of an apostle !—“ If any man defile the temple of God, 
him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which tem¬ 
ple ye are.” 1 The philosopher again: “ There is a holy spirit in 
us;” 2 and again the apostle : “ Know ye not that” “ the Spirit of 
God dwelleth in you l” 3 

Now respecting the various opinions which have been laid be¬ 
fore the reader, there is one observation that will generally apply, 
—that they unite in assigning certain important attributes or 
operations to some principle or power existent in the human mind. 
They affirm that this principle or power possesses wisdom to di¬ 
rect us aright,—that its directions are given instantaneously as 
the individual needs them,—that it is inseparably attended with 
unquestionable authority to command. That such a principle or 
power does, therefore, actually exist, can need little further 
proof; for a concurrent judgment upon a question of personal ex¬ 
perience cannot surely be incorrect. To say that individuals 
express their notions of this principle or power by various 
phraseology, that they attribute to it different degrees of super¬ 
human intelligence, or that they refer for its origin to contradictory 
causes, does not affect the general argument. The great point for 
our attention is, not the designation or the supposed origin of this 
guide, but its attributes ; and these attributes appear to be divine. 


THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD. 

I. That every reasonable human being is a moral agent,—that 
is, that every such human being is responsible to God, no one 
perhaps denies. There can be no responsibility where there is 
no knowledge : “ Where there is no law there is no transgression.” 
So then every human being possesses, or is furnished with, moral 
knowledge and a moral law. “ If we admit that mankind, with¬ 
out an outward revelation, are nevertheless sinners, we must also 
admit that mankind, without such a revelation, are nevertheless 
in possession of the law of God.” 4 

1 1 Cor. iii. 17. 2 De Benef. c. 17, &c. 3 1 Cor. iii. 16. 

K Gurney: Essays on Christianity, p. 516. 





Chap. 6 . 


NECESSITIES OF PAGANISM, &c. 


65 


Whence then do they obtain it 1—a question to which but one 
answer can be given;—From the Creator himself. It appears 
therefore to be almost demonstratively shown, that God does 
communicate his will immediately to the minds of those who have 
no access to the external expression of it. It is always to be re¬ 
membered that, as the majority of mankind do not possess the 
written communication of the will of God, the question, as it re¬ 
spects them, is between an Immediate Communication and none; 
between such a communication, and the denial of their responsi¬ 
bility in a future state ; between such a communication, and the 
reducing them to the condition of the beasts that perish. 

II. No one perhaps will imagine that this argument is confined 
to countries w r hich the external light of Christianity has not 
reached. “ Whoever expects to find in the Scriptures a specific 
direction for every moral doubt that arises, looks for more than he 
will meet with i” 1 so that even in Christian countries there exists 
some portion of that necessity for other guidance, which has been 
seen to exist in respect of pagans. Thus Adam Smith says that 
there are some questions which it “ is perhaps altogether impossi¬ 
ble to determine by any precise rules,” and that they “ must be 
left altogether to the decision of the man within the breast.”— 
But, indeed, when we speak of living in Christian countries, and 
of having access to the external revelation, we are likely to mis¬ 
lead ourselves with respect to the actual condition of “ Christian” 
people. Persons talk of possessing the Bible, as if every one 
who lived in a protestant country had a Bible in his pocket and 
could read it. But there are thousands, perhaps millions, in 
Christian and in protestant countries, who know very little of what 
Christianity enjoins. They probably do not possess the Scrip¬ 
tures, or if they do, probably cannot read them. What they do 
know they learn from others,—from others who may be little so¬ 
licitous to teach them, or to teach them aright. Such persons 
therefore are, to a considerable extent, practically in the same" 
situation as those who have not heard of Christianity, and there 
is therefore to them a corresponding need of a direct communica¬ 
tion of knowledge from heaven. But if we see the need of such 
knowledge extending itself thus far, who will call in question the 
doctrine, that it is imparted to the whole human race 1 

These are offered as considerations involving an antecedent 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 1, c. 4. 

F 


66 


GRADATIONS OF LIGHT. 


Essay 1 . 


probability of the truth of our argument. The reader is not re¬ 
quired to give his assent to it as to a dogma of which he can dis¬ 
cover neither the reason nor the object. Here is probability very 
strong; here is usefulness very manifest, and very great;—so that 
the mind may reasonably be open to the reception of evidence, 
whatever Truth that evidence shall establish. 

If the written revelation were silent respecting the immediate 
communication of the Divine Will, that silence might perhaps 
rightly be regarded as conclusive evidence that it is not conveyed; 
because it is so intimately connected with the purposes to which 
that revelation is directed, that scarcely any other explanation 
could be given of its silence than that the communication did not 
exist. That the Scriptures declare that God has communicated 
light and knowledge to some men by the immediate exertion of his 
own agency, admits not of dispute: but this it is obvious is not 
sufficient for our purpose; and it is in the belief that they declare 
that God imparts some knowledge to all men, that we thus appeal 
to their testimony. 

Now here the reader should especially observe, that where the 
Christian Scriptures speak of the existence and influence of the 
Divine Spirit on the mind, they commonly speak of its higher 
operations; not of its office as a moral guide, but as a purifier, 
and sanctifier, and comforter of the soul. They speak of it in 
reference to its sacred and awful operations in connection with 
human salvation: and thus it happens that very many citations 
which, if we were writing an essay on religion, would be perfectly 
appropriate, do not possess that distinct and palpable application 
to an argument, which goes no further than to affirm that it is a 
moral guide. And yet it may most reasonably be remarked, that 
if it has pleased the Universal Parent thus, and for these awful 
purposes, to visit the minds of those who are obedient to his 
power,—he will not suffer them to be destitute of a moral guid¬ 
ance. The less must be supposed to be involved in the greater. 

Our argument does not respect the degrees of illumination which 
may be possessed, respectively, by individuals, 1 or in different ages 

1 I am disposed to offer a simple testimony to what I believe to be a truth; that 
even in the present day, the divine illumination and power is sometimes imparted to 
individuals in a degree much greater than is necessary for the purposes of mere moral 
direction; that on subjects connected with their own personal condition or that of 
others, light is sometimes imparted in greater brightness and splendour than is ordi¬ 
narily enjoyed by mankind, or than is necessary for our ordinary direction in life. 




PROPHECY. 


67 


Chap. 6. 


of the world. There were motives, easily conceived, for impart¬ 
ing a greater degree of light and of power at the introduction of 
Christianity than in the present day : accordingly there are many 
expressions in the New Testament which speak of high degrees 
of light and power, and which, however they may affirm the ge¬ 
neral existence of a Divine Guidance, are not descriptive of the 
general nor of the present condition of mankind. Nevertheless, 
if the records of Christianity, in describing these greater “ gifts,” 
inform us that a gift, similar in its nature but without specification 
of its amount, is imparted to all men, it is sufficient. Although 
it is one thing for the Creator to impart a general capacity to dis¬ 
tinguish right from wrong, and another to impart miraculous power; 
one thing to inform his accountable creature that lying is evil, and 
another to enable him to cure a leprosy ; yet this affords no reason 
to deny that the nature of the gift is not the same, or that both 
are not divine. “ The degree of light may vary according as one 
man has a greater measure than another. But the light of an 
apostle is not one thing and the light of the heathen another thing, 
distinct in principle. They differ only in degree of power, dis¬ 
tinctness, and splendour of manifestation.” 1 

So early as Gen. vi. there is a distinct declaration of the moral 
operation of the Deity on the human mind; not upon the pious 
and the good, but upon those who were desperately wicked, so 
that even “ every imagination of the thoughts of their heart was 
only evil continually.”—“ My spirit shall not always strive with 
man.” Upon this passage a good and intelligent man writes 
thus: “ Surely, if his spirit had striven with them until that time, 
until they were so desperately wicked, and wholly corrupted, that 
not only some, but every imagination of their hearts was evil, 
yes, only evil, and that continually, we may well believe the ex¬ 
press Scripture assertion, that ‘ a manifestation of the Spirit is 
given to every man to profit withal.’ 

Respecting some of the prophetical passages in the Hebrew 
Scriptures, it may be observed that there appears a want of com¬ 
plete adaptation to the immediate purpose of our argument, be¬ 
cause they speak of that, prospectively, which our argument 
assumes to be true retrospectively also. “ After those days saith 

1 Hancock: Essay on Instinct, &c. p. 2, c. 7, s. 1. I take this opportunity of ac¬ 
knowledging the obligations I am under to this work, for many of the “ Opinions” 
which are cited in the last section. 2 Job Scott’s Journal, c. i. 




68 


CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES. 


Essay 1 . 


the Lord, I will put my law in their inward parts and write it in 
their hearts;” 1 —-from which the reader may possibly conclude 
that before those days no such internal law was imparted. Yet 
the preceding paragraph might assure him of the contrary, and 
that the prophet indicated an increase rather than a commence¬ 
ment of internal guidance. Under any supposition it does not 
affect the argument as it respects the present condition of the 
human race; for the prophecy is twice quoted in the Christian 
Scriptures, and is expressly stated to be fulfilled. Once the pro¬ 
phecy is quoted almost at length, and in the other instance the 
important clause is retained, “ I will put my laws into their hearts, 
and in their minds will I write them.” 2 

“ And all thy children,” says Isaiah, “ shall be taught of the 
Lord.” Christ himself quotes this passage in illustrating the 
nature of his own religion: “ It is written in the prophets, And 
they shall be all taught of God.” 3 

“ Thine eyes shall see thy teachers: and thine ears shall hear 
a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it; when 
ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left.” 4 

The Christian Scriptures, if they be not more explicit, are more 
abundant in their testimony. Paul addresses the “foolish Gala¬ 
tians.” The reader should observe their character; for some 
Christians who acknowledge the divine influence on the minds of 
eminently good men, are disposed to question it in reference to 
others. These foolish Galatians had turned again to “ weak and 
beggarly elements,” and their dignified instructor was afraid of 
them, lest he had bestowed upon them labour in vain. Neverthe¬ 
less to them he makes the solemn declaration; “ God hath sent 
forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts.” 5 

John writes a General Epistle, an epistle which was addressed, 
of course, to a great variety of characters, of whom some, it is 
probable, possessed little more of the new religion than the name. 
The apostle writes—“ Hereby we know that he abideth in us, by 
the Spirit which he hath given us.” 6 

The solemn declarations which follow are addressed to large 
numbers of recent converts, of converts whom the writer had been 
severely reproving for improprieties of conduct, for unchristian 
contentions, and even for greater faults: “Ye are the temple of 

1 Jer. xxxi. 33. 2 Heb. viii. 10; and x. 16. 3 John vi. 45. 

4 Isa. xxx. 20, 21. 5 Gal. iv. 6. 6 1 John iii. 24. 


Chap. 6 . 


PERPETUITY OF GUIDANCE. 


69 


the living God, as God hath said, I will dwell in them and walk 
in them.”—“ What, know ye not that your body is the temple of 
the Holy Ghost which is in you!” 1 “ Know ye not that ye are 
the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you] If 
any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the 
temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.” 2 

And with respect to the moral operations of this sacred power: 
—“ As touching brotherly love, ye need not that I write unto you : 
for ye yourselves are taught of God to love one another ;” 3 that is, 
taught a duty of morality. 

Thus also :—“ The grace of God that bringeth salvation hath 
appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and 
worldly lusts, w r e should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in 
this present world ;" 4 —or in other words, teaching all men moral 
laws,—laws both mandatory and prohibitory, teaching both what 
to do and what to avoid. 

And very distinctly :—“ The manifestation of the Spirit is given 
to every man to profit withal.” 5 “ A Light to lighten the Gen¬ 
tiles.” 6 “ I am the Light of the world.” 7 “ The true Light which 
lighteth every man that cometh into the world.” 8 

“ When the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the 
things contained in the law, these having not the law, are a law 
unto themselves, which show the work of the law written in their 
hearts,” 9 —written, it may be asked, by whom but by that Being 
who said, “ I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it 
in their hearts ]” 10 

To such evidence from the written revelation, I know of no other 
objection which can be urged than the supposition that this divine 
instruction, though existing eighteen hundred years ago, does not 
exist now. To which it appears sufficient to reply, that it existed 
not only eighteen hundred years ago, but before the period of the 
deluge; and that the terms in which the Scriptures speak of it 
are incompatible with the supposition of a temporary duration: 
“ all taught of God:” “ in you all:" “ hath appeared unto all 
men :” “ given to every man:” “ every man that cometh into the 
world" Besides, there is not the most remote indication in the 
Christian Scriptures that this instruction would not be perpetual; 

1 1 Cor. vi. 19. 2 1 Cor. iii. 16. 3 1 Thess. iv. 9. * Tit. ii. 11, 12. 

5 1 Cor. xii. 7. 6 Luke ii. 32. 7 John viii. 12. 8 John i, 9. 

9 Rom. ii. 14. 10 Jer. xxxi. 33. 



70 


NATIONAL VICES. 


Essay 1 . 


and their silence on such a subject, a subject involving the most 
sacred privileges of our race, must surely be regarded as positive 
evidence that this instruction would be accorded to us for ever. 


How clear soever appears to be the evidence of reason, that 
man, being universally a moral and accountable agent, must be 
possessed, universally, of a moral law; and how distinct soever 
the testimony of revelation, that he does universally possess it,— 
objections are still urged against its existence. 

Of these, perhaps the most popular are those which are founded 
upon the varying dictates of the “ Conscience.” If the view 
which we have taken of the nature and operations of the con¬ 
science be just, these objections will have little weight. That the 
dictates of the conscience should vary in individuals respectively, 
is precisely what, from the circumstances of the case, is to be ex¬ 
pected ; but this variation does not impeach the existence of that 
purer ray which, whether in less or greater brightness, irradiates 
the heart of man. 

I am however disposed here to notice the objections 1 that may 
be founded upon national derelictions of portions of the Moral Law. 
“ There is,” says Locke, “ scarce that principle of morality to be 
named, or rule of virtue to be thought on, which is not somewhere 
or other slighted and condemned by the general fashion of whole 
societies of men, governed by practical opinions and rules of liv¬ 
ing quite opposite to others.”-—And Paley : “ There is scarcely a 
single vice which, in some age or country of the world, has not 
been countenanced by public opinion : in one country it is esteemed 
an office of piety in children to sustain their aged parents, in an¬ 
other to dispatch them out of the way: suicide in one age of the 
world has been heroism, in another felony; theft which is punished 
by most laws, by the laws of Sparta was not unfrequently reward¬ 
ed : you shall hear duelling alternately reprobated and applauded 
according to the sex, age, or station of the person you converse 
with: the forgiveness of injuries and insults is accounted by one 
sort of people magnanimity, by another, meanness.” 2 

Upon all which I observe, that to whatever purpose these rea¬ 
sonings are directed, they are defective in an essential point. They 

1 Not urged specifically, perhaps, against the Divine Guidance; hut they will 
equally afford an illustration of the truth. 2 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 1, c. 5, 




Chap. 6 . 


INFANTICIDE. 


71 


show us indeed what the external actions of men have been, but 
give no proof that these actions were conformable with the secret 
, internal judgment: and this last is the only important point. That 
a rule of virtue is “ slighted and condemned by the general fash¬ 
ion ,” is no sort of evidence that those who joined in this general 
fashion did not still know that it was a rule of virtue. There are 
many duties which, in the present day, are slighted by the general 
fashion, and yet no man will stand up and say that they are not 
duties. “ There is scarcely a single vice which has not been 
countenanced by public opinion;” but where is the proof that it 
has been approved by private and secret judgment ] There is a 
great deal of difference between those sentiments which men seem 
to entertain respecting their duties when they give expression to 
“ public opinion,” and when they rest their heads on their pillows 
in calm reflection. “ Suicide, in one age of the world has been 
heroism, in another, felony; but it is not every action which a 
man says is heroic, that he believes is right. “ Forgiveness of 
injuries and insults is accounted by one sort of people magnani¬ 
mity, by another, meanness; and yet they who thus vulgarly em¬ 
ploy the word meanness, do not imagine that forbearance and 
placability are really wrong. 

I have met with an example which serves to confirm me in the 
judgment, that public notions or rather public actions are a very 
equivocal evidence of the real sentiments of mankind. “ Can 
there be greater barbarity than to hurt an infant! Its helplessness* 
its innocence, its amiableness, call forth the compassion even of 
an enemy.—What then should we imagine must be the heart of a 
parent who would injure that weakness which a furious enemy is 
afraid to violate 1 Yet the exposition, that is, the murder of new¬ 
born infants, was a practice allowed of in almost all the States of 
Greece, even among the polite and civilized Athenians.” This 
seems a strong case against us. But what were the grounds upon 
which this atrocity was defended !—“ Philosophers, instead of 
censuring, supported the horrible abuse, by far-fetched considera¬ 
tions of public utility.” 1 

By far-fetched considerations of public utility ! Why had they 
recourse to such arguments as these ? Because they found that the 
custom could not be reconciled with direct and acknowledged rules 
of virtue : because they felt and knew that it was wrong. The 
1 Theory Mor. Sent. p. 5, c. 2. 


72 


DUELLING. 


Essay 1 . 


very circumstance that they had recourse to “ far-fetched” argu¬ 
ments, is evidence that they were conscious that clearer and more 
immediate arguments were against them. They knew that infan¬ 
ticide was an immoral act. 

I attach some importance to the indications which this class of 
reasoning affords of the comparative uniformity of human opinion, 
even' when it is nominally discordant. One other illustration may 
be offered from more private life. Boswell in his Life of Johnson, 
says that he proposed the question to the moralist, “ Whether 
duelling was contrary to the laws of Christianity ?” Let the 
reader notice the essence of the reply: “ Sir, as men become in a 
high degree refined, various causes of offence arise which are 
considered to he of such importance that life must be staked to 
atone for them, though in reality they are not so. In a state of 
highly-polished society, an affront is held to he a serious injury. 
It must therefore be resented, or rather a duel must he fought upon 
it, as men have agreed to banish from their society one who puts 
up with an affront without fighting a duel. Now, Sir, it is never 
unlawful to fight in self-defence. He then who fights a duel, does 
not fight from passion against his antagonist, hut out of self-de¬ 
fence, to avert the stigma of the world, and to prevent himself 
from being driven from society.—While such notions prevail, no 
doubt a man may lawfully fight a duel.” The question was, the 
consistency of duelling with the laws of Christianity; and there 
is not a word about Christianity in the reply. Why 1 Because 
its laws can never be shown to allow duelling; and Johnson doubt¬ 
less knew this. Accordingly, like the philosophers who tried to 
justify the kindred crime of infanticide, he had recourse to “ far¬ 
fetched considerations,”—to the high polish of society,—to the 
stigma of the world,—to the notions that prevail. Now, whilst 
the readers of Boswell commonly think they have Johnson’s' au¬ 
thority in favour of duelling, I think they have his authority against 
it. I think that the mode in which he justified duelling, evinced 
his consciousness that it was not compatible with the Moral Law. 

And thus it is, that with respect to Public Opinions, and gene¬ 
ral fashions, and thence descending to private life, we shall find 
that men very usually know the requisitions of the Moral Law 
better than they seem to know them; and that he who estimates 
the moral knowledge of societies or individuals by their common 
language, refers to an uncertain and fallacious standard. 



Chap . 6 . 


SAVAGE LIFE. 


73 


After all the uniformity of human opinion respecting the great 
laws of morality is very remarkable. Sir James Mackintosh 
speaks of Grotius, who had cited poets, orators, historians, &c., 
and says, “ He quotes them as witnesses, whose conspiring tes¬ 
timony, mightily strengthened and confirmed by their discordance 
on almost every other subject, is a conclusive proof of the unani¬ 
mity of the whole human race, on the great rules of duty and 
fundamental principles of morals.” 1 

From poets and orators we may turn to savage life. In 1683, 
that is, soon after the colonization of Pennsylvania, the founder 
of the colony held a “ council and consultation ” with some of the 
Indians. In the course of the interview it appeared that these 
savages believed in a state of future retribution; and they de¬ 
scribed their simple ideas of the respective states of the good and 
bad. The vices that they enumerated as those which would con¬ 
sign them to punishment, are remarkable, in-as-much as they so 
nearly correspond to similar enumerations in the Christian Scrip¬ 
tures. They were “ theft, swearing, lying, whoring, murder, and 
the like;” 2 and the New Testament affirms that those who are 
guilty of adultery, fornication, lying, theft, murder, &c., shall not 
inherit the kingdom of God. The same writer having on his 
travels met with some Indians, stopped and gave them some good 
and serious advices. “ They wept,” says he, “and tears ran 
down their naked bodies. They smote their hands upon their 
breasts and said, “ The Good Man here told them what I said 
was all good.” 3 


But reasonings such as these are in reality not necessary to the 
support of the truth of the Immediate Communication of the will 
of God; because, if the variations in men’s notions of right and 
wrong were greater than they are, they would not impeach the 
existence of that communication. In the first place, we never 
affirm that the Deity communicates all his law to every man; 
and in the second place, it is sufficiently certain that multitudes 
know his laws, and yet neglect to fulfil them. 

If, in conclusion, it should be asked, what assistance can be 
yielded, in the investigation of publicly authorized rules of virtue, 
by the discussions of the present chapter ] we answer, Very little. 

1 Disc, on Study of Law of Nature and Nations. 

3 Ibid. 


2 John Richardson’s Life. 



74 


SAVAGE LIFE. 


Essay 1 . 


But when it is asked, Of what importance are they as illustrating 
the Principles of Morality ! we answer, Very much. If there be 
two sources from which it has pleased God to enable mankind to 
know his will,—a law written externally, and a law commu¬ 
nicated to the heart,—it is evident that both must be regarded as 
Principles of Morality, and that, in a work like the present, both 
should be illustrated as such. It is incidental to the latter mode 
of moral guidance, that it is little adapted to the formation of 
external rules: but it is of high and solemn importance to our 
species for the secret direction of the individual man. 




ESSAY I. 


PART II. 

SUBORDINATE MEANS OF DISCOVERING THE DIVINE WILL. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE LAW OF THE LAND. 

The authority of civil government as a director of individual 
conduct, is explicitly asserted in the Christian Scriptures : — “ Be 
subject to principalities and powers,— Obey magistrates,” 1 — 
“ Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man for the Lord’s 
sake : whether it be to the king, as supreme ; or unto governors, 
as unto them that are sent by him for the punishment of evil 
doers, and for the praise of them that do well.” 2 

By this general sanction of civil government, a multitude of 
questions respecting human duty are at once decided. In ordi¬ 
nary cases, he upon whom the magistrate imposes a law, needs 
not to seek for knowledge of his duty upon the subject from a 
higher source. The divine will is sufficiently indicated by the 
fact that the magistrate commands. Obedience to the Law is 
obedience to the expressed will of God. He who, in the pay¬ 
ment of a tax to support the just exercise of government, con¬ 
forms to the Law of the Land, as truly obeys the divine will, 
as if the Deity had regulated questions of taxation, by express 
rules. 

In thus founding the authority of civil government upon the 
1 Tit. iii. 1. 2 1 Pet. ii. 13. 




76 MORAL AUTHORITY OF LAW OF THE LAND. Essay 1 . 

precepts of revelation, we refer to the ultimate, and for that 
reason to the most proper sanction. Not, indeed, that if revela¬ 
tion had been silent, the obligation of obedience might not have 
been deduced from other considerations. The utility of govern¬ 
ment,— its tendency to promote the order and happiness of 
society, — powerfully recommend its authority; so powerfully, 
indeed, that it is probable that the worst government which ever 
existed, was incomparably better than none; and we shall here¬ 
after have occasion to see that considerations of Utility involve 
actual moral obligation. 

The purity and practical excellence of the motives to civil 
obedience which are proposed in the Christian Scriptures, are 
especially worthy of regard. “ Submit for the Lord's sake.” 
“ Be subject, not only for wrath,” but for conscience ’ sake.” 
Submission for wrath’ sake, that is, from fear of penalty, implies 
a very inferior motive to submission upon grounds of principle 
and duty; and as to practical excellence, who cannot perceive 
that he who regulates his obedience by the motives of Christian¬ 
ity, acts more worthily, and honourably, and consistently, than 
he who is influenced only by fear of penalties 1 The man who 
obeys the laws for conscience’ sake, will obey always; alike 
wdien disobedience would be unpunished and unknown, as when 
it would be detected the next hour. The magistrate has a secu¬ 
rity for such a man’s fidelity, which no other motive can supply. 
A smuggler will import his kegs if there is no danger of a seizure 
—a Christian will not buy the brandy though no one knows it but 
himself. 

It is to be observed, that the obligation of civil obedience is 
enforced, whether the particular command of the law is in itself 
sanctioned by morality or not. Antecedently to the existence of 
the law of the magistrate respecting the importation of brandy, it 
was of no consequence in the view of morality whether brandy 
was imported or not; but the prohibition of the magistrate in¬ 
volves a moral obligation to refrain. Other doctrine has been 
held; and it has been asserted, that unless the particular law is 
enforced by morality, it does not become obligatory by the com¬ 
mand of the state. 1 But if this were true,—if no law was obli¬ 
gatory that was not previously enjoined by morality, no moral 
obligation would result from the law of the land. Such a ques- 
1 See Godwin’s Political Justice. 




Pt. % C. 1 . 


LIMITS OF ITS AUTHORITY. 


77 


tion is surely set at rest by, “ Submit yourselves to every ordi¬ 
nance of man." 

But the authority of civil government is a subordinate autho¬ 
rity. If, from any cause, the magistrate enjoins that which is 
prohibited by the Moral Law, the duty of obedience is withdrawn. 
“ All human authority ceases at the point where obedience be¬ 
comes criminal.” The reason is simple ; that when the magis¬ 
trate enjoins what is criminal, he has exceeded his power : “the 
minister of God” has gone beyond his commission. There is, in 
our day, no such thing as a moral plenipotentiary. 

Upon these principles, the first teachers of Christianity acted 
when the rulers “ called them, and commanded them not to speak 
at all nor teach in the name of Jesus.”—“ Whether,” they replied, 
“ it be right in the sight of God, to hearken unto you more than 
unto God, judge ye.” 1 They accordingly “entered into the tem¬ 
ple early in the morning and taught :” and when, subsequently, 
they were again brought before the council and interrogated, they 
replied, “We ought to obey God rather than men;” and not¬ 
withstanding the renewed command of the council, “ daily in the 
temple and in every house, they ceased not to teach and preach 
Jesus Christ.” 2 — Nor let any one suppose that there is any thing 
religious in the motives of the apostles, which involved a pecu¬ 
liar obligation upon them to refuse obedience : we have already 
seen that the obligation to conform to religious duty and to moral 
duty, is one. 

To disobey the civil magistrate is however not a light thing. 
When the Christian conceives that the requisitions of govern¬ 
ment and of a higher law are conflicting, it is needful that he 
exercise a strict scrutiny into the principles of his conduct. But 
if, upon such scrutiny, the contrariety of requisitions appears 
real, no room is left for doubt respecting his duty, or for hesi¬ 
tation in performing it. With the consideration of consequences 
he has then no concern : whatever they may be, his path is plain 
before him. 

It is sufficiently evident that these doctrines respect non-com¬ 
pliance only. It is one thing not to comply with laws, and ano¬ 
ther to resist those who make or enforce them. He who thinks 
the payment of tithes unchristian, ought to decline to pay them ; 
but he would act upon strange principles of morality, if when an 

1 Acts iv. 18. 2 Actsv. 29, 42. 


78 MORALITY SOMETIMES PROHIBITS Essay 1. 

officer came to distrain upon his property, he forcibly resisted his 
authority. 1 

If there are cases in which the positive injunctions of the law 
may be disobeyed, it is manifest that the mere permission of the 
law to do a given action, conveys no sufficient authority to per¬ 
form it. There are, perhaps, no disquisitions connected with the 
present subject, which are of greater practical utility than those 
which show, that not every thing which is legally right, is morally 
right; that a man may be entitled by law to privileges which 
morality forbids him to exercise, or to possessions which morality 
forbids him to enjoy. 

As to the possession, for example, of property : the general 
foundation of the right to property is the Law of the Land. But 
as the law of the land is itself subordinate, it is manifest that the 
right to property must be subordinate also, and must be held in 
subjection to the Moral Law. A man who has a wife and two 
sons, and who is worth fifteen hundred pounds, dies without a 
will. The widow possesses no separate property, but the sons 
have received from another quarter ten thousand pounds apiece. 
Now of the fifteen hundred pounds which the intestate left, the 
law assigns five hundred to the mother, and five hundred to each 
son. Are these sons morally permitted to take each his five hun¬ 
dred pounds, and to leave their parent with only five hundred for 
her support ] Every man I hope will answer, No : and the rea¬ 
son is this; that the Moral Law, which is superior to the law of 
the land, forbids them to avail themselves of their legal rights. 
The Moral Law requires justice and benevolence, and a due consi¬ 
deration for the wants and necessities of others; and if justice 
and benevolence would be violated by availing ourselves of legal 
permissions, those permissions are not sufficient authorities to 
direct our conduct. 

It has been laid down, that “ so long as we keep within the 
design and intention of a law, that law will justify us, in foro 
conscientice as in foro humano, whatever be the equity or expedi¬ 
ency of the law itself.” 2 From the example which has been 
offered, I think it sufficiently appears that this maxim is utterly 

^ 1 We speak here of private obligations only. Respecting the political obligations 
which result from the authority of civil government, some observations will be found 
in the chapter on Civil Obedience. Ess. iii. c. v. 

2 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1. c. 4. 




Pt. 2 . C. 1 . 


WHAT THE LAW PERMITS. 


79 


unsound : at any rate, its unsoundness will appear from a brief 
historical fact. During the revolutionary war in America, the 
Virginian legislature passed a law, by which “ it was enacted, 
that all merchants and planters in Virginia who owed money to 
British merchants, should be exonerated from their debts, if they 
paid the money due into the public treasury, instead of sending 
it to Great Britain; and all such as stood indebted, were invited 
to come forward and give their money, in this manner, towards 
the support of the contest in which America was then engaged.” 
Now, according to the principles of Paley, these Virginian plant¬ 
ers would have been justified, in foro conscientice, in defrauding 
the British merchants of the money which was their due. It is 
quite clear that the “design and intention of the law” was to 
allow the fraud,—the planters were even invited to commit it; 
and yet the heart of every reader will tell him, that to have 
availed themselves of the legal permission, would have been an 
act of flagitious dishonesty. The conclusion is therefore distinct, 
—that legal decisions respecting property, are not always a suffi¬ 
cient warrant for individual conduct. To the extreme disgrace of 
these planters it should be told, that although at first, when they 
would have gained little by the fraud, few of them paid their 
debts into the treasury, yet afterwards many large sums were 
paid. The legislature offered to take the American paper money; 
and as this paper money, in consequence of its depreciation, was 
not worth an hundredth part of its value in specie, the planters, 
in thus paying their debts to their own government, paid but one 
pound instead of a hundred, and kept the remaining ninety-nine 
in their own pockets! Profligate as these planters and as this le¬ 
gislature were, it is pleasant for the sake of America to add, that 
in 1796, after the supreme court of the United States had been 
erected, the British merchants brought the affair before it; and 
the judges directed that every one of these debts should again be 
paid to the rightful creditors. 

It might be almost imagined that the moral philosopher de¬ 
signed to justify such conduct as that of the planters. He says, 
when a man “ refuses to pay a debt of the reality of which he is 
conscious, he cannot plead the intention of the statute, unless he 
could show that the law intended to interpose its supreme autho¬ 
rity to acquit men of debts of the existence and justice of which 



80 


MORALITY SOMETIMES PROHIBITS, &c. Essay 1. 


they were themselves sensible.” 1 Now the planters could show 
that this was the intention of the law, and yet they were not jus¬ 
tified in availing themselves of it. The error of the moralist is 
founded in the assumption, that there is “ supreme authority ” in 
the law. Make that authority, as it really is, subordinate , and 
the error and the fallacious rule which is founded upon it, will be 
alike corrected. 

In applying to the Law of the Land as a moral guide, it is of 
importance to distinguish its intention from its letter. The inten¬ 
tion is not indeed, as we have seen, a final consideration, but the 
design of a legislature is evidently of greater import, and conse¬ 
quent obligation, than the literal interpretation of the words in 
which that design is proposed to be expressed. The want of a 
sufficient attention to this simple rule, occasions may snares to 
private virtue, and the commission of much practical injustice. 
In consequence, partly, of the inadequacy of all language, and 
partly, of the inability of those who frame laws, accurately to 
provide for cases which subsequently arise, it happens that the 
literal application of a law, sometimes frustrates the intention of 
the legislator and violates the obligations of justice. Whatever 
be the cause, it is found in practice, that courts of law usually 
regard the letter of a statute rather than its general intention; 
and hence it happens that many duties devolve upon individuals 
in the application of the laws in their own affairs. If legal courts 
usually decide by the letter, and if decision by the letter often 
defeats the objects of the legislator and the claims of justice, how 
shall these claims be satisfied except by the conscientious and for¬ 
bearing integrity of private men! Of the cases in which this in¬ 
tegrity should be brought into exercise, several examples will be 
offered in the early part of the next Essay. 

1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 4. 



CHAPTER II. 


THE LAW OF NATURE. 

We here use the term, The Law of Nature, as a convenient 
title under which to advert to the authority, in moral affairs, of 
what are called Natural Instincts and Natural rights. 

“ They who rank Pity amongst the original impulses of our na¬ 
ture, rightly contend that when this principle prompts us to the 
relief of human misery, it indicates the divine intention and our 
duty. Indeed, the same conclusion is deducible from the exist¬ 
ence of the passion, whatever account he given of its origin. 
Whether it be an instinct or a habit, it is in fact a property of 
our nature which God appointed.” 1 

I should reason similarly respecting Natural Rights,—the right 
to life,—to personal liberty,—to a share of the productions of the 
earth. The fact that life is given us by our Creator, — that our 
personal powers and mental dispositions are adapted by Him to 
personal liberty,—and that He has constituted our bodies so as to 
need the productions of the earth, are satisfactory indications of 
the divine will, and of human duty. 

So that we conclude the general proposition is true,—that a 
regard to the Law of Nature, in estimating human duty, is accord¬ 
ant with the will of God. There is little necessity for formally 
insisting on the authority of the Law of Nature, because few are 
disposed to dispute that authority, at least when their own inter¬ 
ests are served by appealing to it. If this authority were ques¬ 
tioned, perhaps it might be said that the expression of the divine 
will tacitly sanctions it, because that expression is addressed to 
us under the supposition that our constitution is such as it is; 
and because some of the divine precepts appear to specify a point 
at which the authority of the Law of Nature stops. To say that 
a rule is only in some cases wrong, is to say that in many it is 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 2, c. 5. 

G 




82 AUTHORITY OF THE LAW OF NATURE. Essay 1. 


right: to which may be added the consideration, that the ten¬ 
dency of the Law of Nature is manifestly beneficial. No man^ 
questions that the “original impulses of our nature” tend power¬ 
fully to the well being of the species. 

In speaking of the Instincts of Nature, we enter into no 
curious definitions of what constitutes an instinct. Whether any 
of our passions or emotions be properly instinctive, or the effect 
of association, is of little consequence to the purpose, so long as 
they actually subsist in the human economy, and so long as we 
have reason to believe that their subsistence there, is in accord¬ 
ance with the divine will. 

But the authority of the Law of Nature, like every other au¬ 
thority, is subordinate to that of the Moral Law. This indeed is 
sufficiently indicated by those reasonings which show the univer¬ 
sal supremacy of that law. Yet it may be of advantage to 
remember such expressions as these: “ Be not afraid of them 
that kill the body and after that have no more that they can do. 
But fear him which, after he hath killed, hath power to cast into 
hell.” 1 This appears distinctly to place an instinct of nature in 
subordination to the Moral Law. The “fear of them that kill 
the body,” results from the instinct of self-preservation; and by 
this instinct we are not to be guided, when the divine will 
requires us to repress its voice. 

Parental affection has been classed amongst the instincts. 2 The 
declaration “ He that loveth son or daughter more than Me, is not 
worthy of me,” 3 clearly subjects this instinct to the higher autho¬ 
rity of the divine will: for the “love” of God is to be manifested 
by obedience to his law. Another declaration to the same im¬ 
port subjects also the instinct of self-preservation: “ If a man 
hate not, (that is by comparison,) his own life also, he cannot be 
my disciple.” 4 And here it is remarkable, that these affections, or 
instincts are adduced for the purpose of inculcating their subordi¬ 
nation to the Moral Law. 

Upon one of the most powerful instincts of nature, the re¬ 
straints of revelation are emphatically laid. Its operation is re¬ 
stricted, not to a few of its possible objects, but exclusively to 
one ; and to that one upon an express and specified condition. 5 

The propriety of holding the natural impulses in subjection to a 

1 Luke xii. 4. 2 Dr. Price. 3 Matt. x. 37. 

5 See Matt. iv. 9. 1 Cor. vi. 9. vii. i, 2. Gal. v. 19, See. 


4 Luke xiv. 26. 



Ft. 2 , C. 2 . 


LIMITS TO ITS AUTHORITY. 


83 


higher law, appears to be asserted in this language of Dugald 
Stewart: “ The dictates of reason and conscience inform us in 
language which it is impossible to mistake, that it is sometimes a 
duty to check the most amiable and pleasing emotions of the 
heart: to withdraw, for example, from the sight of those distresses 
which stronger claims forbid us to relieve, and to deny ourselves 
that exquisite luxury which arises from the exercise of humanity.” 
Even that morality which is not founded upon religion, recom¬ 
mends the same truth. Godwin says that if Fenelon were in his 
palace and it took fire, and it so happened that the life either of 
himself or of his chambermaid must be sacrificed, it would be the 
duty of the woman to repress the instinct of self-preservation, and 
sacrifice hers, — because Fenelon would do more good in the 
world. 1 If the morality of scepticism inculcates this subjugation 
of our instincts to indeterminate views of advantage, much more 
does the morality of the New Testament teach us to subject them 
to the determinate will of God. 

It is upon these principles that some of the most noble exam¬ 
ples of human excellence have been exhibited,—those of men 
who have died for the testimony of a good conscience. If the 
strongest of our instincts,-—if that instinct, excited to its utmost 
vigour by the apprehension of a dreadful death, might be of 
weight to suspend the obligation of the Moral Law, it surely 
might have been suspended in the case of those who thus proved 
their fidelity.. 

Yet, obvious as is the propriety and the duty of thus preferring 
the Divine Law before all, the dictates or the rights of nature are 
continually urged as of paramount obligation. Many persons 
appear to think, that if a given action is dictated by the law of 
nature it is quite sufficient. Respecting the instinct of self-pre¬ 
servation, especially, they appear to conclude that to whatever 
that instinct prompts, it is lawful to conform to its voice. They 
do not surely reflect upon the monstrousness of their opinions: 
they do not surely consider that they are absolutely superseding 
the Moral Law of God, and superseding it upon considerations 
resulting merely from the animal part of our constitution. The 
Divine Laws respect the whole human economy, — our prospects 
in another world as well as our existence in the present. 

Some men, again, speak of our rights in a state of nature, as if 
1 Political Justice. 


84 


THE RIGHTS OF NATURE. 


Essay 1 . 


to be in a state of nature was to be without the jurisdiction of the 
Moral Law. But if man be a moral and responsible agent, that 
law applies every-where; to a state of nature as truly as to every 
other state. If some other human being had been left with Sel¬ 
kirk on Juan Fernandez, and if that other seized an animal which 
Selkirk had ensnared, would Selkirk have been justified in assert¬ 
ing his natural right to the animal by whatever means ? It is very 
possible that no means would have availed to procure the restora¬ 
tion of the rabbit or the bird, short of killing the offender. Might 
Selkirk kill the man in assertion of his natural rights 1 Every 
one answers, No,—because, the unsophisticated dictates in every 
man’s mind assure us that, the rights of nature are subordinate to 
higher laws. 

Situations similar to those of a state of nature sometimes arise 
in society; 1 as where money is demanded, or violence is commit¬ 
ted by one person on another, where no third person can be called 
in to assistance. The injured party, in such a case, cannot go to 
every length in his own cause by virtue of the law of nature : he 
can go only so far as the Moral Law allows. These considerations 
will be found peculiarly applicable to the rights of self-defence; 
and it is pleasant to find these doctrines supported by that scepti¬ 
cal morality to which we just now referred. The author of Poli¬ 
tical Justice maintains that man possesses no rights ; that is, no 
absolute rights,—none, of which the just exercise is not conditional 
upon the permission of a higher rule. That rule, with him, is 
“ Justice,”—with us it is the law of God; but the reasoning is 
the same in kind. 

Nevertheless, the natural rights of man ought to possess ex¬ 
tensive application both in private and political affairs. If it were 
sufficiently remembered, that these rights are abstractedly possessed 
in equality by all men, we should find many imperative claims 
upon us with which we do not now comply. The artificial dis¬ 
tinctions of society induce forgetfulness of the circumstance that 
we are all brethren: not that I would countenance the specula¬ 
tions of those who think that all men should be now practically 
equal; but that these distinctions are such, that the general rights 
of nature are invaded in a degree which nothing can justify. 
There are natural claims of the poor upon the rich, of dependants 
upon their superiors, which are very commonly forgotten : there 
1 See Locke on Gov. b. 2, c. 7. 



Pt. 2 , C. 2 . 


INCORRECT IDEAS, &c. 


85 


are endless acts of superciliousness, and unkindness, and op¬ 
pression, in private life, which the Law of Nature emphatically 
condemns. When, sometimes, I see a man of fortune speaking 
in terms of supercilious command to his servant, I feel that he 
needs to go and learn some lessons of the Law of Nature. I feel 
that he has forgotten what he is, and what he is not, and what his 
brother is : he has forgotten that by nature he and his servant are 
in strictness equal; and that although, by the permission of Pro¬ 
vidence, a various allotment is assigned to them now, he should 
regard every one with that consideration and respect which is due 
to a man and a brother. And when to these considerations are 
added those which result from the contemplation of our relation¬ 
ship to God,—that we are the common objects of his bounty and 
his goodness, and that we are heirs to a common salvation, we are 
presented with such motives to pay attention to the rights of na¬ 
ture, as constitute an imperative obligation. 

The political duties which result from the Law of Nature, it is 
not our present business to investigate; but it may be observed 
here, that a very limited appeal to facts is sufficient to evince, 
that by many political institutions the Rights of Nature have been 
grievously sacrificed; and that if those Rights had been suffici¬ 
ently regarded, many of these vicious institutions would never 
have been exhibited in the world. 


It appears worth while at the conclusion of this chapter to re¬ 
mark, that a person when he speaks of “ Nature,” should know 
distinctly what he means. The word carries with it a sort of in¬ 
determinate authority; and he who uses it amiss, may connect 
that authority with rules or actions which are little entitled to it. 
There are few senses in which the word is used, that do not refer, 
however obscurely, to God ; and it is for that reason that the no¬ 
tion of authority is connected with the word. “ The very name 
of nature implies, that it must owe its birth to some prior agent, 
or to speak properly, signifies in itself nothing.” 1 Yet, unmean¬ 
ing as the term is, it is one of which many persons are very fond ; 
—whether it be that their notions are really indistinct, or that 
some purposes are answered by referring to the obscurity of na- 
1 Milton : Christian Doct. p. 14. 




86 


INCORRECT IDEAS, &c. 


Essay 1 . 


ture rather than to God. “ Nature has decorated the earth with 
beauty and magnificence :” “ Nature has furnished us with joints 
and limbs are phrases sufficiently unmeaning; and yet I know 
not that they are likely to do any other harm than to give cur¬ 
rency to the common fiction. But when it is said that “ Nature 
teaches us to adhere to truth,”— <£ Nature condemns us for disho¬ 
nesty or deceit,”—- £ ‘ Men are taught by nature that they are re¬ 
sponsible beings,”—there is considerable danger that we have 
both fallacious and injurious notions of the authority which thus 
teaches or condemns us. Upon this subject it were well to take 
the advice of Boyle : “ Nature,” he says, “ is sometimes, indeed 
commonly taken for a kind of semi-deity. In this sense it is best 
not to use it at all.” 1 It is dangerous to induce confusion into our 
ideas respecting our relationship with God. 

A law of nature is a very imposing phrase ; and it might be 
supposed, from the language of some persons, that nature was an 
independent legislatress, who had sat and framed laws for the go¬ 
vernment of mankind. Nature is nothing : yet it would seem 
that men do sometimes practically imagine, that a “ law of nature” 
possesses proper and independent authority; and it may be sus¬ 
pected that with some the notion is so palpable and strong, that 
they set up the authority of “ the law of nature” without refer¬ 
ence to the will of God, or perhaps in opposition to it. Even if 
notions like these float in the mind only with vapoury indistinct¬ 
ness, a correspondent indistinctness of moral notions is likely to 
ensue. Every man should make to himself the rule, never to 
employ the word Nature when he speaks of ultimate moral au¬ 
thority. A law possesses no authority; the authority rests only 
in the legislator: and as nature makes no laws, a law of nature 
involves no obligation but that which is imposed by the Divine 
Wifi. 

1 Free Inquiry into the vulgarly received Notions of Nature. 


CHAPTER III. 


UTILITY. 

That in estimating our duties in life we ought to pay regard 
to what is useful and beneficial,—to what is likely to promote the 
welfare of ourselves and of others,—can need little argument to 
prove. Yet, if it were required, it may be easily shown that this 
regard to Utility is recommended or enforced in the expression of 
the Divine Will. That Will requires the exercise of pure and 
universal benevolence*;—which benevolence is exercised in con¬ 
sulting the interests, the welfare, and the happiness of mankind. 
The dictates of Utility, therefore, are frequently no other than the 
dictates of benevolence. 

Or, if we derive the obligations of Utility from considerations 
connected with our reason, they do not appear much less distinct. 
To say that to consult Utility is right, is almost the same as to 
say, it is right to exercise our understandings. The daily and 
hourly use of. reason is, to discover what is fit to be done; that 
is, what is useful and expedient: and since it is manifest that the 
Creator, in endowing us with the faculty, designed that we should 
exercise it, it is obvious that in this view also a reference to ex¬ 
pediency is consistent with the Divine will. 

When (higher laws being silent) a man judges that of two al¬ 
ternatives one is dictated by greater utility, that dictate constitutes 
an obligation upon him to prefer it. I should not hold a landowner 
innocent, who knowingly persisted in adopting a bad mode of 
raising corn; nor should I hold the person innocent who opposed 
an improvement in ship-building, or who obstructed the formation 
of a turnpike road that would benefit the public. These are 
questions, not of prudence merely, but of morals also. 

Obligations resulting from Utility possess great extent of appli¬ 
cation to political affairs. There are, indeed, some public concerns 
in which the Moral Law, antecedently, decides nothing. Whether 




88 LIMITS TO THE OBLIGATIONS Essay 1. 

a duty shall be imposed, or a charter granted, or a treaty signed, 
are questions which are perhaps to be determined by expediency 
alone : but when a public man is of the judgment that any given 
measure will tend to the general good, he is immoral if he opposes 
that measure. The immorality may indeed be made out by a 
somewhat different process : —such a man violates those duties of 
benevolence which religion imposes : he probably disregards, too, 
his sense of obligation; for if he be of the judgment that a given 
measure will tend to the general good, conscience will scarcely be 
silent in whispering that he ought not to oppose it. 

It is sufficiently evident, upon the principles which have hi¬ 
therto been advanced, that considerations of Utility are only so far 
obligatory as they are in accordance with the Moral Law. Pur¬ 
suing however, the method which has been adopted in the two last 
chapters, it may be observed, that this subserviency of Utility to 
the Divine will, appears to be required by the written revelation. 
That habitual preference of futurity to the present time, which 
Scripture exhibits, indicates that our interests here should be held 
in subordination to our interests hereafter : and as these higher 
interests are to be consulted by the means which revelation pre¬ 
scribes, it is manifest that those means are to be pursued, whate¬ 
ver we may suppose to be their effects upon the present welfare 
of ourselves or of other men. “ If, in this life only, we have 
hope in God, then are we of all men most miserable.” It cer¬ 
tainly is not, in the usual sense of the word, expedient to be most 
miserable. And why did they thus sacrifice expediency ? Because 
the communicated will of God required that course of life by 
which human interests were apparently sacrificed. It will be 
perceived that these considerations result from the truth, (too little 
regarded in talking of “ Expediency” and “ General Benevolence,”) 
that Utility, as it respects mankind, cannot be properly consulted 
without taking into account our interests in futurity. “ Let us 
eat and drink, for to-morrow we die,” is a maxim of which all 
would approve if we had no concerns with another life. That 
which might be very expedient if death were annihilation, may 
be very inexpedient now. 

“ If ye say, we will not dwell in this land, neither obey the 
voice of the Lord your God, saying, no ; but we will go into the 
land of Egypt, where we shall see no war “ nor have hunger of 
bread ; and there will we dwell ; it shall come to pass that the 




Pt. % C. 3. RESULTING FROM EXPEDIENCY. 


89 


sword, which ye feared, shall overtake you there in the land of 
Egypt, and the famine, whereof ye were afraid, shall follow close 
after you in Egypt, and there ye shall die.” 1 —■“ We will burn 
incense unto the queen of heaven, and pour out drink-offerings 
unto her, for then had we plenty of victuals, and were well, and 
saw no evil. But since we left off, we have wanted all things, 
and have been consumed by the sword, and by the famine.”— 
Therefore, “ I will watch over them for evil, and not for good.” 2 
These reasoners argued upon the principle of making expediency 
the paramount law; and it may be greatly doubted whether those 
who argue upon that principle now, have better foundation ‘for 
their reasoning than those of old. Here was the prospect of ad¬ 
vantage founded, as they thought, Upon experience. One course 
of action had led (so they reasoned) to war and famine, and an¬ 
other to plenty, and health, and general well-being: yet still our 
Universal Lawgiver required them to disregard all these conclu¬ 
sions of expediency, and simply to conform to His will. 

After all, the general experience is, that what is most expedient 
with respect to another world, is most expedient with respect to 
the present. There may be cases, and there have been, in which 
the divine will may require an absolute renunciation of our pre¬ 
sent interests ; as the martyr who maintains his fidelity, sacrifices 
all possibility of advantage now. But these are unusual cases ; 
and the experience of the contrary is so general, that the truth 
has been reduced to a proverb. Perhaps in nineteen cases out of 
twenty, he best consults his present welfare, who endeavours to 
secure it in another world. “ By the wise contrivance of the 
Author of nature, Virtue is upon all ordinary occasions, even with 
regard to this life, real wisdom, and the surest and readiest means 
of obtaining both safety and advantage.” 3 Were it however 
otherwise, the truth of our principles wo aid not be shaken. Men’s 
happiness, and especially the happiness of good men, does not 
consist merely in external things. The promise of a hundred fold 
in this present life may still be fulfilled in mental felicity; and if 
it could not be, who is the man that would exclude from his com¬ 
putations the prospect, in the world to come, of life everlasting 1 
In the endeavour to produce the greatest sum of happiness, or 
which is the same thing, in applying the dictates of Utility to our 
conduct in life, there is one species of utility that is deplorably 

1 Jer. xlii. 2 Jer. xliv. 3 Dr. Smith: Theo. Mor. Sent. 


90 


EFFECTS OF ACTIONS, &c. 


Essay 1 . 


disregarded both in private and public affairs,—that which respects 
the religious and moral welfare of mankind. If you hear a poli¬ 
tician expatiating upon the good tendency of a measure, he tells 
you how greatly it will promote the interests of commerce, or how 
it will enrich a colony, or how it will propitiate a powerful party, 
or how it will injure a nation whom he dreads ; but you hear pro¬ 
bably not one word of inquiry whether it will corrupt the charac¬ 
ter of those who execute the measure, or whether it will introduce 
vices into the colony, or whether it will present new temptations 
to the virtue of the public. And yet these considerations are 
perhaps by far the most important in the view even of enlightened 
expediency; for it is a desperate game to endeavour to benefit a 
people by means which may diminish their virtue. Even such a 
politician would probably assent to the unapplied proposition, 
“ the virtue of a people is the best security for their welfare.” It 
is the same in private life. You hear a parent who proposes to 
change his place of residence, or to engage in a new profession or 
pursuit, discussing the comparative conveniences of the proposed 
situation, the prospect of profit in the new profession, the plea¬ 
sures which ’will result from the new pursuit; but you hear pro¬ 
bably not one word of inquiry whether the change of residence 
will deprive his family of virtuous and beneficial society which 
will not be replaced,—whether the contemplated profession will 
not tempt his own virtue or diminish his usefulness,—or whether 
his children will not be exposed to circumstances that will pro¬ 
bably taint the purity of their minds. And yet this parent will 
acknowledge, in general terms, that “ nothing can compensate for 
the loss of religious and moral character.” Such persons surely 
make very inaccurate computations of Expediency. 

As to the actual conduct of political affairs, men frequently le¬ 
gislate as if there was no such thing as religion or morality in the 
world; or as if, at any rate, religion and morality had no concern 
with affairs of state. I believe that a sort of shame (a false and 
vulgar shame no doubt) would be felt by many members of se¬ 
nates, in directly opposing religious or moral considerations to 
prospects of advantage. In our own country, those who are most 
willing to do this receive, from vulgar persons, a name of contempt 
for their absurdity! How inveterate must be the impurity of a 
system, which teaches men to regard as ridiculous that system 
which only is sound! 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE LAW OF NATIONS.—THE LAW OF HONOUR. 


Although the subjects of this chapter can scarcely be regarded as constituting rules 
of life, yet we are induced briefly to notice them in the present Essay, partly, on ac¬ 
count of the importance of the affairs which they regulate, and partly, because they 
will afford satisfactory illustration of the principles of Morality. 


SECTION I. 


THE LAW OF NATIONS. 

The Law of Nations, so far as it is founded upon the principles 
of morality, partakes of that authority which those principles 
possess; so far as it is founded merely upon the mutual conven¬ 
tions of states, it possesses that authority over the contracting 
parties, which results from the rule, that men ought to abide by 
their engagements. The principal considerations which present 
themselves upon the subject, appear to be these: 

1, —That the Law of Nations is binding upon those states who 
knowingly allow themselves to be regarded as parties to it: 

2, —That it is wholly nugatory with respect to those states 
which are not parties to it: 

3, —That it is of no force in opposition to the Moral Law. 

I. The obligation of the Law of Nations upon those who join 
in the convention, is plain—that is, it rests, generally, upon all 
civilized communities which have intercourse with one another. 
A tacit engagement only is, from the circumstances of the case, 







92 


OBLIGATIONS OF THE LAW OF NATIONS. Essay 1. 


to be expected; and if any state did not choose to conform to the 
Law of Nations, it should publicly express its dissent. The Law 
of Nations is not wont to tighten the bonds of morality; so that 
probably most of its positive requisitions are enforced by the Mo¬ 
ral Law : and this consideration should operate as an inducement 
to a conscientious fulfilment of these requisitions. In time of war, 
the Law of Nations prohibits poisoning and assassination, and it 
is manifestly imperative upon every state to forbear them; but 
whilst morality thus enforces many of the requisitions of the Law 
of Nations, that law frequently stops short, instead of following 
on to whither morality would conduct it. This distinction between 
assassination and some other modes of destruction that are prac¬ 
tised in war, is not perhaps very accurately founded in considera¬ 
tions of morality: nevertheless, since the distinction is made, let 
it be made, and let it by all means be regarded. Men need not 
add arsenic and the private dagger to those modes of human de¬ 
struction which war allows. The obligation to avoid private mur¬ 
der is clear, even though it were shown that the obligation extends 
much further. Whatever be the reasonableness of the distinction 
and of the rule that is founded upon it, it is perfidious to violate 
that rule. 

So it is with those maxims of the Law of Nations which require 
that prisoners should not be enslaved, and that the persons of am¬ 
bassadors should be respected. Not that I think the man who sat 
down, with only the principles of morality before him, would ea¬ 
sily be able to show, from those principles , that the slavery was 
wrong whilst other things which the Law of Nations allows are 
right,—but that, as these principles actually enforce the maxims, 
as the observance of them is agreed on by civilized states, and as 
they tend to diminish the evils of war, it is imperative on states 
to observe them. Incoherent and inconsistent as the Law of Na¬ 
tions is, when it is examined by the Moral Law, it is pleasant to 
contemplate the good tendency of some of its requisitions. In 
1702, previous to the declaration of war by this country, a num¬ 
ber of the anticipated “ enemy’s” ships had been seized and de¬ 
tained. When the declaration was made, these vessels were re¬ 
leased, “ in pursuance,” as the proclamation stated, “ of the Law 
of Nations.” Some of these vessels were perhaps shortly after 
captured and irrecoverably lost to their owners: yet though it 
might perplex the Christian moralist to show that the release was 


PL 2 , C. 4 . 


ITS AUTHORITY. 


93 


right and that the capture was right too, still he may rejoice that 
men conform, even in part, to the purity of virtue. 

Attempts to deduce the maxims of international law as they 
now obtain, from principles of morality, will always be vain. 
Grotius seems as if he would countenance the attempt when he 
says, “ Some writers have advanced a doctrine which can never 
be admitted, maintaining that the Law of Nations authorizes one 
power to commence hostilities against another, whose increasing 
greatness awakens her alarms. As a matter of expediency,” says 
Grotius, “ such a measure may be adopted; but the principles of 
justice can never be advanced in its favour.” 1 Alas! if principles 
of justice are to decide what the Law of Nations shall authorize, 
it will be needful to establish a new code to-morrow. A great 
part of the code arises out of the conduct of war; and the usual 
practices of war are so foreign to principles of justice and morality, 
that it is to no purpose to attempt to found the code upon them. 
Nevertheless, let those who refer to the Law of Nations, introduce 
morality by all possible means; and if they think they cannot 
appeal to it always, let them appeal to it where they can. If they 
cannot persuade themselves to avoid hostilities when some injury 
is committed by another nation, let them avoid them when “ an¬ 
other nation’s greatness merely awakens their alarms.” 

II. That the Law of Nations is wholly nugatory with respect 
to those states which are not parties to it, is a truth which, how¬ 
ever sound, has been too little regarded in the conduct of civilized 
nations. The state whose subjects discover and take possession 
of an uninhabited island, is entitled by the Law of Nations quietly 
to possess it. And it ought quietly to possess it: not that in the 
view of reason or of morality, the circumstance of an English¬ 
man’s first visiting the shores of a country, gives any very intelli¬ 
gible right to the King of England to possess it rather than any 
other prince, but that, such a rule having been agreed upon, it 
ought to be observed;—But by whom! By those who are parties 
to the agreement. For which reason, the discoverer possesses no 
sufficient claim to oppose his right to that of a people who were 
not parties to it. So that he who, upon pretence of discovery, 
should forcibly exclude from a large extent of territory a people 
who knew nothing of European politics, and who in the view of 
reason possessed an equal or a greater right, undoubtedly violates 

1 Rights of War and Peace. 


94 


ABUSES OF THE LAW OF NATIONS. Essay 1. 


the obligations of morality. It may serve to dispel the obscurity 
in which habit and self-interest wrap our perceptions, to consider, 
that amongst the states which were nearest to the newly-discovered 
land, a law of nations might exist w r hich required that such land 
should be equally divided amongst them. Whose law of nations 
ought to prevail 7 That of European states, or that of states in 
the Pacific or South Sea 7 How happens it that the Englishman 
possesses a sounder right to exclude all other nations, than sur¬ 
rounding nations possess to partition it amongst them 7 

Unhappily, our law of nations goes much further; and by a 
monstrous abuse of power, has acted upon the same doctrine with 
respect to inhabited countries; for when these have been disco¬ 
vered, the law of nations has talked, with perfect coolness, of 
setting up a standard, and thenceforth assigning the territory to 
the nation whose subjects set it up; as if the previous inhabit¬ 
ants possessed no other claim or right than the bears and wolves. 
It has been asked (and asked with great reason), what we should 
say to a canoe-full of Indians who should discover England, and 
take possession of it in the name of their chief 7 

Civilized states appear to have acted upon the maxim, that no 
people possess political rights but those who are parties to the 
law of nations; and accordingly the history of European settle¬ 
ments has been, so far as the aborigines were concerned, too 
much a history of outrage, and treachery, and blood. Penn acted 
upon sounder principles : he perfectly well knew that neither an 
established practice, nor the Law of Nations, could impart a right 
to a country which was justly possessed by former inhabitants; 
and therefore, although Charles II. “granted’* him Pennsylvania, 
he did not imagine that the gift of a man in London, could jus¬ 
tify him in taking possession of a distant country without the 
occupiers’ consent. What was “ granted” therefore by his sove¬ 
reign, he purchased of the owners; and the sellers were satisfied 
with their bargain and with him. The experience of Pennsylva¬ 
nia has shown that integrity is politic as well as right. When 
nations shall possess greater expansion of knowledge, and exer¬ 
cise greater purity of virtue, it will be found that many of the 
principles which regulate international intercourse, are foolish as 
well as vicious; that whilst they disregard the interests of moral¬ 
ity they sacrifice their own. 

III. Respecting the third consideration, that the Law of Nations 




Pt. % C. 4 . 


LIMITS OF ITS AUTHORITY. 


95 


is of no force in opposition to the Moral Law, little needs to be 
said here. It is evident that upon whatever foundation the Law 
of Nations rests, its authority is subordinate to that of the will of 
God. When therefore we say that amongst civilized states, when 
an island is discovered by one state, other states are hound to re¬ 
frain, it is not identical with saying that the discoverer is at liberty 
to keep possession by whatever means. The mode of asserting all 
rights is to be regulated in subordination to the Moral Law. 
Duplicity, and fraud, and violence, and bloodshed, may perhaps 
sometimes be the onty means of availing ourselves of the rights 
which the law of nations grants: but it were a confused species 
of morality which should allow the commission of all this, because 
it is consistent with the Law of Nations. 

A kindred remark applies to the obligation of treaties. Trea¬ 
ties do not oblige us to do what is morally wrong. A treaty is a 
string of engagements; but those engagements are no more exempt 
from the jurisdiction of the Moral Law, than the promise of a man 
to assassinate another. Does such a promise morally bind the 
ruffian 1 No: and for this reason, and for no other, that the per¬ 
formance is unlawful. And so it is with treaties. Two nations 
enter into a treaty of offensive and defensive alliance. Subse¬ 
quently one of them engages in an unjust and profligate war. 
Does the treaty morally bind the other nation to abet the pro¬ 
fligacy and injustice 1 No: if it did, any man might make any 
action lawful to himself by previously engaging to do it. No 
doubt such a nation and such a ruffian have done wrong; but 
their offence consisted in making the engagement, not in breaking 
it. Even if ordinary wars were defensible, treaties of offensive 
alliance that are unconditional with respect to time or objects, 
can never be justified. The state, however, which, in the pursuit 
of a temporary policy, has been weak enough, or vicious enough 
to make them, should not hesitate to refuse fulfilment, when the 
act of fulfilment is incompatible with the Moral Law. Such a 
state should decline to perform the treaty, and retire with shame, 
— with shame, not that it has violated its engagements, but that 
it was ever so vicious as to make them. 



SECTION II. 


THE LAW OF HONOUR. 

The Law of Honour consists of a set of maxims, written or 
understood, by which persons of a certain class agree to regulate, 
or are expected to regulate, their conduct. It is evident that the 
obligation of the Law of Honour, as such, results exclusively 
from the agreement, tacit or expressed, of the parties concerned. 
It binds them because they have agreed to be bound, and for no 
other reason. He who does not choose to be ranked amongst the 
subjects of the Law of Honour, is under no obligation to obey its 
rules. These rules are precisely upon the same footing as the 
laws of free-masonry, or the regulations of a reading-room. He 
who does not choose to subscribe to the room, or to promise con¬ 
formity to masonic laws, is under no obligation to regard the rules 
of either. 

For which reason, it is very remarkable that at the commence¬ 
ment of his Moral Philosophy, Dr. Paley says, The rules of life 
“ are, the Law of Honour, the Law of the Land, and the Scrip¬ 
tures.” It were strange indeed, if that were a rule of life which 
every man is at liberty to disregard if he pleases; and which, in 
point of fact, nine persons out of ten do disregard without blame. 
Who would think of taxing the writer of these pages with vio¬ 
lating a “ rule of life,” because he pays no attention to the Law 
of Honour I “ The Scriptures ” communicate the will of .God; 
“the Law of the Land” is enforced by that will; but where is 
the sanction of the Law of Honour ?—It is so much the more 
remarkable that this law should have been thus formally proposed 
as a rule of life, because, in the same work, it is described as 
“unauthorized.” How can a set of unauthorized maxims com*- 
pose a rule of life 1 But further : the author says that the Law of 
Honour is a “ capricious rule, which abhors deceit, yet applauds 
the address of a successful intrigue.”—And further still: “it 
allows of fornication, adultery, drunkenness, prodigality, duelling, 




Pi. 2, C. 4, AUTHORITY OF THE LAW OF HONOUR. 


97 


and of revenge in the extreme.” Surely then it cannot, with any 
propriety of language, he called a rule of life. 

Placing, then, the obligation of the Law of Honour, as such, 
upon that which appears to be its proper basis,—the duty to per¬ 
form our lawful engagements—it may be concluded, that when a 
man goes to a gaming house or a race course and loses his money 
by betting or playing, he is morally bound to pay: not because 
morality adjusts the rules of the billiard room or the turf, not 
because the Law of the Land sanctions the stake, but because the 
party previously promised to pay it. Nor would it affect this 
obligation to allege, that the stake was itself both illegal and 
immoral. So it was; but the payment is not. The payment of 
such a debt involves no breach of the Moral Law. The guilt con¬ 
sists not in paying the money but in staking it. Nevertheless, 
there may be prior claims upon a man’s property which he ought 
first to pay. Such are those of lawful creditors. The practice of 
paying debts of honour with promptitude, and of delaying the 
payment of other debts, argues confusion or depravity of princi¬ 
ple. It is not honour, in any virtuous and rational sense of the 
word, which induces men to pay debts of honour instantly. Real 
honour would induce them to pay their lawful debts first: and 
indeed it may be suspected that the motive to the prompt pay¬ 
ment of gaming debts, is usually no other than the desire to pre¬ 
serve a fair name with the world. Integrity of principle has 
often so little, to do with it, that this principle is sacrificed in 
order to pay them. 

With respect to those maxims of the Law of Honour which 
require conduct that the Moral Law forbids, it is quite manifest 
that they are utterly indefensible. “ If unauthorized laws of ho¬ 
nour be allowed to create exceptions to divine prohibitions, there 
is an end of all morality as founded in the will of the Deity, and 
the obligation of every duty may at one time or other be dis¬ 
charged.” 1 These observations apply to those foolish maxims of 
honour which relate to duelling. These maxims can never jus¬ 
tify the individual in disregarding the obligations of morality. 
He who acts upon them acts wicked; unless indeed he be so little 
informed of the requisitions of morality, that he does not, upon 
this subject, perceive the distinction between right and wrong. 
The man of honour therefore should pay a gambling debt, but he 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, c. 9. 

H 



98 


CHARACTER OF THE LAW OF HONOUR. Essay 1 . 

should not send a challenge or accept it. The one is permitted 
by the Moral Law, the other is forbidden. 

Whatever advantages may result from the Law of Honour, it 
is, as a system, both contemptible and bad. Even its advantages 
are of an ambiguous kind; for although it may prompt to recti¬ 
tude of conduct, that conduct is not founded upon rectitude of 
principle. The motive is not so good as the act. And as to many 
of its particular rules, both positive and negative, they are the 
proper subject of reprobation aad abhorrence. We ought to re¬ 
probate and abhor a system which enjoins the ferocious practice 
of challenges and duels, and which allows many of the most flagi¬ 
tious and degrading vices that infest the world. 

The practical effects of the Law of Honour are probably greater 
and worse than we are accustomed to suppose. Men learn, by 
the power of association, to imagine that that is lawful which 
their maxims of conduct do not condemn. A set of rules which 
inculcates some actions that are right, and permits others that are 
wrong, practically operates as a sanction to the wrong. The code 
which attaches disgrace to falsehood, but none to drunkenness or 
adultery, operates as a sanction to drunkenness and adultery. 
Does not experience verify these conclusions of reason ? Is it not 
true that men and women of honour indulge, with the less hesita¬ 
tion, in some vices, in consequence of the tacit permission of the 
Law of Honour 1 What then is to be done but to reprobate the 
system as a whole 1 In this reprobation the man of sense may 
unite with the man of virtue; for assuredly the system is con¬ 
temptible in the view of intellect, as well as hateful in the view of 
purity. 


END OF THE FIRST ESSAY. 




ESSAY II. 


PRIVATE RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS. 


The division which has commonly been made of the private 
obligations of man, into those which respect himself, his neigh¬ 
bour, and his Creator, does not appear to be attended with any 
considerable advantages. These several obligations are indeed so 
involved the one with the other, that there are few personal 
duties which are not also in some degree relative, and there are 
no duties, either relative or personal, which may not be regarded 
as duties to God. The suicide’s or the drunkard’s vice injures 
his family or his friends: for every offence against morality is 
an injury to ourselves, and a violation of the duties which we 
owe to Him whose law is the foundation of morality. Neglecting, 
therefore, these minuter distinctions, w r e observe those only 
which separate the Private from the Political Obligations of 
Mankind. 





CHAPTER I. 


RELIGIOUS OBLIGATIONS, 

Of the two classes of Religious Obligations,—that which re¬ 
spects the exercise of piety towards God, and that which respects 
visible testimonials of our reverence and devotion, the business of 
a work like this is principally with the latter. Yet at the risk of 
being charged with deviating from this proper business, I would 
adventure a few paragraphs respecting devotion of mind. 

That the worship of our Father who is in heaven consists, not 
in assembling with others at an appointed place and hour ; not in 
joining in the rituals of a Christian church, or in performing cere¬ 
monies, or in participating of sacraments, 1 all men will agree; 
because all men know that these things may be done whilst the 
mind is wholly intent upon other affairs, and even without any 
believe in the existence of God. “ Two attendances upon public 
worship is a form, complied with by thousands, who never kept a 
sabbath in their lives.” 2 Devotion, it is evident, is an operation 
of the mind; the sincere aspiration of a dependent and grateful 
being to Him who has all power both in heaven and in earth : 
and as the exercise of devotion is not necessarily dependent upon 
external circumstances, it may be maintained in solitude or in 
society, in the place appropriated to worship or in the field, in the 
hour of business or of quietude and rest. Even under a less spi¬ 
ritual dispensation of old, a good man “ worshipped, leaning upon 
the top of his staff.” 

Now it is to be feared that some persons, who acknowledge 
that devotion is a mental exercise, impose upon themselves some 
feelings as devotional which are wholly foreign to the worship of 
God. There is a sort of spurious devotion,—feelings, having the 
resemblance of worship, but not possessing its nature, and not 

1 It is to be regretted that this word of which the origin is so exceptionable, should 
be used to designate what are regarded as solemn acts of religion. 2 Cowper’s Letters. 




Chap . 1. FACTITIOUS SEMBLANCES OF DEVOTION. 101 


producing its effects. “Devotion,” says Blair, “is a powerful 
principle, which penetrates the soul, which purifies the affections 
from debasing attachments, and by a fixed and steady regard to 
God, subdues every sinful passion, and forms the inclinations to 
piety and virtue.” 1 To purify the affections and subdue the pas¬ 
sions, is a serious operation : it implies a sacrifice of inclination ; 
a subjugation of the will. This mental operation many persons 
are not willing to undergo : and it is not therefore wonderful that 
some persons are willing to satisfy themselves with the exercise 
of a species of devotion that shall be attained at less cost. 

A person goes to an oratorio of sacred music. The majestic 
flow of harmony, the exalted subjects of the hymns or anthems, 
the full and rapt assembly, excite, and warm, and agitate his 
mind: sympathy becomes powerful; he feels the stirring of un¬ 
wonted emotions; weeps, perhaps, or exults; and when he leaves 
the assembly, persuades himself that he has been worshipping 
and glorifying God. 

There are some preachers with whom it appears to be an object 
of much solicitude, to excite the hearer to a warm and impas¬ 
sioned state of feeling. By ardent declamation or passionate dis¬ 
plays of the hopes and terrors of religion, they arouse and alarm 
his imagination. The hearer, who desires perhaps to experience 
the ardours of religion, cultivates the glowing sensations, aban¬ 
dons his mind to the impulse of feeling, and at length goes home 
in complacency with his religious sensibility, and glads himself 
with having felt the fervours of devotion. 

Kindred illusion may be the result of calmer causes. The lofty 
and silent aisle of an ancient cathedral, the venerable ruins of 
some once honoured abbey, the boundless expanse of the heaven 
of stars, the calm immensity of the still ocean, or the majesty 
and terror of a tempest, sometimes suffuses the mind with a sort 
of reverence and awe; a sort of “philosophic transport” which a 
person would willingly hope is devotion of the heart. 

It might be sufficient to assure us of the spuriousness of these 
semblances of religious feeling, to consider, that emotions very si¬ 
milar in their nature are often excited by subjects which have no 
connection with religion. I know not whether the affecting scenes 
of the drama and of fictitious story, want much but association 
with ideas of religion to make them as devotional as those which 

1 Sermons, No. 10. 



102 FACTITIOUS SEMBLANCES OF DEVOTION. Essay 2. 


have been noticed: and if, on the other hand, the feelings of him 
who attends an oratorio were excited by a military band, he would 
think not of the Deity or of heaven, but of armies and conquests. 
Nor should it be forgotten, that persons who have habitually little 
pretension to religion, are perhaps as capable of this factitious de¬ 
votion as those in whom religion is constantly influential; and 
surely it is not to be imagined, that those who rarely direct reve¬ 
rent thoughts to their Creator, can suddenly adore Him for an 
hour and then forget him again, until some new excitement again 
arouses their raptures, to be again forgotten. 

To religious feelings as to other things, the truth applies,—• 
“By their fruits ye shall know them.” If these feelings do not 
tend to “purify the affections from debasing attachments;” if 
they do not tend to “ form the inclinations to piety and virtue,” 
they certainly are not devotional. Upon him whose mind is 
really prostrated in the presence of his God, the legitimate effect 
is, that he should be impressed with a more sensible consciousness 
of the Divine presence: that he should deviate with less facility 
from the path of duty; that his desires and thoughts should be re¬ 
duced to Christian subjugation; that he should feel an influential 
addition to his dispositions to goodness; and that his affections 
should be expanded towards his fellow men. He who rises from 
the sensibilities of seeming devotion, and finds, that effects such 
as these are not produced in his mind, may rest assured that, in 
whatever he has been employed, it has not been in the pure wor¬ 
ship of that God who is a spirit. To the real prostration of the 
soul in the Divine presence, it is necessary that the mind should 
be still:—“ Be still and know that I am God.” Such devotion is 
sufficient for the whole mind: it needs not—perhaps in its purest 
state it admits not—the intrusion of external things. And when 
the soul is thus permitted to enter as it were into the sanctuary of 
God ; when it is humblfe in his presence ; when all its desires are 
involved in the one desire of devoted ness to him; then is the hour 
of acceptable worship ,■—then the petition of the soul is prayer ,— 
then is its gratitude thanksgiving, —then is its oblation praise. 

That such devotion, when such is attainable, will have a pow¬ 
erful tendency to produce obedience to the Moral Law, may justly 
be expected: and here indeed is the true connection of the sub¬ 
ject of these remarks with the general object of the present essays. 
Without real and efficient piety of mind, we are not to expect a 




RELIGIOUS CONVERSATION. 


103 


Chap. 1 . 


consistent observance of the Moral Law. That law requires, 
sometimes, sacrifices of inclination and of interest, and a general 
subjugation of the passions, which religion, and religion only, can 
capacitate and induce us to make. I recommend not enthusiasm 
or fanaticism, but that sincere and reverent application of the soul 
to its Creator, which alone is likely to give either distinctness to 
our perceptions of his will, or efficiency to our motives to fulfil it. 


A few sentences will be indulged to me here respecting Reli¬ 
gious Conversation. I believe both that the proposition is true 
and that it is expedient to set it down,—that religious conversa¬ 
tion is one of the banes^ of the religious world. There are many 
who are really attached to religion, and who sometimes feel its 
power, but who allow their better feelings to evaporate in an 
ebullition of words. They forget how much religion is an affair of 
the mind and how little of the tongue: they forget how possible 
it is to live under its power without talking of it to their friends ; 
and some it is to be feared may forget how possible it is to talk 
without feeling its influence. Not that the good man’s piety is to 
live in his breast like an anchorite in his cell. The evil does not 
consist in speaking of religion, but in speaking too much ; not in 
manifesting our allegiance to God; not in encouraging by exhort¬ 
ation, and amending by our advice ; not in placing the light upon 
a candlestick,—but in making religion a common topic of dis¬ 
course. Of all species of well-intended religious conversation, 
that perhaps is the most exceptionable which consists in narrating 
our own religious feelings. Many thus intrude upon that reli¬ 
gious quietude which is peculiarly favourable to the Christian cha¬ 
racter. The habit of communicating “ experiences ” I believe to 
be very prejudicial to the mind. It may sometimes be right to do 
this : in the great majority of instances I believe it is not benefi¬ 
cial and not right. Men thus dissipate religious impressions, and 
therefore diminish their effects. Such observation as I have been 
enabled to make, has sufficed to convince me that where the reli¬ 
gious character is solid there is but little religious talk, and. that 
where there is much talk the religious character is superficial, and 
like other superficial things is easily destroyed. And if these be 
the attendants, and in part the consequences , of general religious 
conversation, how peculiarly dangerous must that conversation be, 




104 


NON-SANCTITY OF DAYS. 


Essay 2 . 


which exposes those impressions that perhaps were designed ex¬ 
clusively for ourselves, and the use of which may he frustrated by 
communicating them to others. Our solicitude should be directed 
to the invigoration of the religious character in our own minds; 
and we should be anxious that the plant of piety, if it had fewer 
branches might have a deeper root. 


SABBATICAL INSTITUTIONS. 

“ Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together as the 
manner of some is .” 1 The divinely authorized institution of Moses 
respecting a weekly sabbath, and the practice of the first teachers 
of Christianity, constitute a sufficient recommendation to set apart 
certain times for the exercise of public worship, even were there 
no injunctions such as that which is placed at the head of this pa¬ 
ragraph. It is, besides, manifestly proper, that beings who are 
dependent upon God for all things, and especially for their hopes 
of immortality, should devote a portion of their time to the expres¬ 
sion of their gratitude, and submission, and reverence. Commu¬ 
nity of dependence and of hope dictates the propriety of united 
worship; and worship to be united, must be performed at times 
previously fixed. 

From the duty of observing the Hebrew sabbath, we are suffi¬ 
ciently exempted by the fact, that it was actually not observed by 
the apostles of Christ. The early Christians met, not on the last 
day of the week, but on the first. Whatever reason may be as¬ 
signed as a motive for this rejection of the ancient sabbath, I think 
it will tend to discountenance the observance of any day, as such : 
for if that day did not possess perpetual sanctity, what day does 
possess it ] 

And with respect to the general tenor of the Christian Scrip¬ 
tures as to the sanctity of particular days, it is I think manifestly 
adverse to the opinion that one day is obligatory rather than ano¬ 
ther. “ Let no man therefore judge you in meat or in drink, or in 
respect of an holy day, or of the new moon or of the sabbath days; 
which are a shadow of things to come, but the body is of Christ .” 2 
Although this “ sabbath day ” was that of the Jews, yet the pas¬ 
sage indicates the writer’s sentiments, generally, respecting the 

i Heb. x. 5. a Col. ii. 16, 17. In Rom. xiv. 5, 6, there is a parallel passage. 



Chap. 1 . 


NON-SANCTITY OF DAYS. 


105 


sanctity of specific days : he classes them with matters which all 
agree to be unimportant; — with meats, and drinks, and new 
moons; and pronounces them to be alike “ shadows .” That strong 
passage addressed to the Christians of Galatia is of the same im¬ 
port : “ How turn ye again to the weak and beggarly elements 
whereunto ye desire again to be in bondage 1 Ye observe days, 
and months, and times, and years. I am afraid of you, lest I have 
bestowed upon you labour in vain.” 1 That which, in writing to 
the Christians of Colosse, the apostle called “ shadows,” he now, 
in writing to those of Galatia, calls “ beggarly elements.” The 
obvious tendency is to discredit the observance of particular times; 
and if he designed to except the first day of the week it is not 
probable that he would have failed to except it. 

Nevertheless, the question whether we are obliged to observe 
the first day of the week because it is the first , is one point—whe¬ 
ther we ought to devote it to religious exercises, seeing that it is 
actually set apart for the purpose , is another. The early Christians 
met on that day, and their example has been followed in succeed¬ 
ing times; but if for any sufficient reason, (and such reasons, 
however unlikely to arise, are yet conceivable,) the Christian world 
should fix upon another day of the week instead of the first, I 
perceive no grounds upon which the arrangement could be ob¬ 
jected to. As there is no sanctity in any day, and no obligation 
to appropriate one day rather than another, that which is actually 
fixed upon is the best and the right one. Bearing in mind, then, 
that it is right to devote some portion of our time to religious ex¬ 
ercises, and that no objection exists to the day which is actually 
appropriated, the duty seems very obvious,—so to employ it. 

Cessation from labour on the first day of the week, is no where 
enjoined in the Christian Scriptures. Upon this subject, the prin¬ 
ciples on which a person should regulate his conduct appear to be 
these : He should reflect that the whole of the day is not too large 
a portion of our time to devote to public worship, to religious re- 
collectedness, and sedateness of mind; and therefore that occupa¬ 
tions which would interfere with this sedateness and recollected- 
ness, or with public worship, ought to be forborne. Even if he 
supposed that the devoting of the whole of the day was not neces¬ 
sary for himself, he should reflect, that since a considerable part 
of mankind are obliged, from various causes, to attend to matters 

1 Gal. iv. 10, 11. 



106 


CESSATION FROM 


Essay 2 . 


unconnected with religion during a part of the day, and that one 
set attends to them during one part and another during another,— 
the whole of the day is necessary for the community, even though 
it were not for each individual: and if every individual should 
attend to his ordinary affairs during that portion of the day which 
he deemed superabundant, the consequence might soon be that the 
day would not be devoted to religion at all. 

These views will enable the reader to judge in what manner we 
should decide questions respecting attention to temporal affairs on 
particular occasions. The day is not sacred, therefore business is 
not necessarily sinful; the day ought to be devoted to religion, 
therefore other concerns which are not necessary are, generally, 
wrong. The remonstrance, “ Which of }mu shall have an ass or 
an ox fallen into a pit, and will not straightway pull him out on 
the sabbath day?” sufficiently indicates that, when reasonable 
calls are made upon us, we are at liberty to attend to them. Of 
the reasonableness of these calls every man must endeavour to 
judge for himself. A tradesman ought, as a general rule, to refuse 
to buy or sell goods. If I sold clothing, I would furnish a surtout 
to a man who was suddenly summoned on a journey, but not to a 
man who could call the next morning. Were I a builder, I would 
prop a falling wall, but not proceed in the erection of a house. 
Were I a lawyer, I would deliver an opinion to an applicant to 
whom the delay of a day would be a serious injury, but not to 
save him the expense of an extra night’s lodging by waiting. I 
once saw with pleasure on the sign board of a public house a no¬ 
tice, that “ none but travellers could be furnished with liquor on a 
Sunday.” The medical profession, and those who sell medicine, 
are differently situated; yet it is not to be doubted that both, and 
especially the latter, might devote a smaller portion of the day to 
their secular employments, if earnestness in religious concerns 
were as great as the opportunities to attend to them. Some phy¬ 
sicians in extensive practice, attend almost as regularly on public 
worship as any of their neighbours. Excursions of pleasure on this 
day are rarely defensible : they do not comport with the purposes 
to which the day is appropriated. To attempt specific rules upon 
such a subject were, however, vain. Not every thing which par¬ 
takes of relaxation is unallowable. A walk in the country may 
be proper and right, when a party to a watering place would be 



Chap. 2 . 


TEMPORAL EMPLOYMENTS. 


107 


improper and wrong. 1 There will be little difficulty in determin¬ 
ing what it is allowable to do and what it is not, if the inquiry be 
not, how much secularity does religion allow] but, how much can 
I, without a neglect of duty, avoid ? 

The habit which obtains with many persons of travelling on 
this day, is peculiarly indefensible; because it not only keeps the 
traveller from his church or meeting, but keeps away his servants, 
or the postmen on the road, and ostlers, and cooks, and waiters. 
All these may be detained from public worship by one man’s jour¬ 
ney of fifty miles. Such a man incurs some responsibility. The 
plea of “ saving time ” is not remote from irreverence; for if it 
has any meaning it is this, that our time is of more value when 
employed in business, than when employed in the worship of God. 
It is discreditable to this country that the number of carriages 
which traverse it on this day is so great. The evil may rightly 
and perhaps easily be regulated by the Legislature. You talk of 
difficulties:—you would have talked of many more, if it were 
now, for the first time, proposed to shut up the General Post Office 
one day in seven. We should have heard of parents dying before 
their children could hear of their danger ; of bills dishonoured and 
merchants discredited for want of a post; and of a multitude of 
other inconveniences which busy anticipation would have dis¬ 
covered. Yet the General Post Office is shut; and where is the 
evil ? The journies of stage coaches may be greatly diminished in 
number; and though twenty difficulties may be predicted, none 
would happen but such as were easily borne. An increase of the 
duty per mile on those coaches which travelled every day, might 
perhaps effect the object. Probably not less than forty persons 
are employed on temporal affairs, in consequence of an ordinany 
stage coach journey of a hundred miles. 2 

A similar regulation would be desirable with respect to “ Sun¬ 
day Papers.” The ordinary contents of a newspaper are little 

1 The scrupulousness of the “ Puritans ” in the reign of Charles I., and the laxity 
of Laud, whose ordinances enjoined sports after the hours of public worship, were 
both really, though perhaps not equally, improper. The Puritans attached sanctity to 
the day: and Laud did not consider, or did not regard the consideration, that his 
sports would not only discredit the notion of sanctity, hut preclude that recollected- 
ness of mind which ought to he maintained throughout the whole day. 

2 There is reason to believe that, to the numerous class of coachmen, waiters, See., 
the alteration would be most acceptable. I have been told by an intelligent coach¬ 
man, that they would gladly unite in a request to their employers if it were likely to 
avail. 


108 


PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS—HOLIDAYS. Essay 2. 


accordant with religious sobriety and abstraction from the world. 
News of armies, and of funds and markets, of political contests 
and party animosities, of robberies and trials, of sporting, and 
boxing, and the stage; with merriment, and scandal, and adver¬ 
tisements,—are sufficiently ill-adapted to the cultivation of religi¬ 
ousness of mind. An additional two-pence on the stamp duty 
would perhaps remedy the evil. 

Private, and especially public amusements on this day, are 
clearly wrong. It is remarkable that they appear least willing to 
dispense with their amusements on this day, who pursue them on 
every other : and the observation affords one illustration amongst 
the many of the pitiable effects of what is called—though it is 
only called —a life of pleasure. 

Upon every kind and mode of negligence respecting these reli¬ 
gious obligations, the question is not simply, whether the indivi¬ 
dual himself sustains moral injury, but also whether he occasions 
injury to those around him. The example is mischievous. Even 
supposing that a man may feel devotion in his counting house, or 
at the tavern, or over a pack of cards, his neighbours who know 
where he is, or his family who see what he is doing, are encou¬ 
raged to follow his example, without any idea of carrying their 
religion with them. “ My neighbour amuses himself,—my father 
attends to his ledgers,—and why may net I V *— So that if such 
things were not intrinsically unlawful, they would be wrong be¬ 
cause they are inexpedient. Some things might be done without 
blame by the lone tenant of a wild, which involve positive guilt in 
a man in society. 

Holy-days, such as those which are distinguished by the names 
of Christmas-day and Good Friday, possess no sanction from 
Scripture : they are of human institution. If any religious com¬ 
munity thinks it is desirable to devote more than fifty-two days in 
the year to the purposes of religion, it is unquestionably right that 
they should devote them; and it is amongst the good institutions 
of several Christian communities, that they do weekly appropriate 
some additional hours to these purposes. The observance of the 
da}^s in question is however of another kind: here, the observance 
refers to the day as such ; and I know not how the censure can 
be avoided which was directed to those Galatians who “ observed 
days, and months, and times, and years.” Whatever may be the 
sentiments of enlightened men, those who are not enlightened are 




Chap. 1. 


OF THE UTILITY OF FORMS, &c. 


109 


likely to regard such days as sacred in themselves. This is turn¬ 
ing to beggarly elements: this partakes of the character of super¬ 
stition; and superstition of every kind and in every degree, is 
incongruous with that “glorious liberty” w r hich Christianity 
describes, and to which it would conduct us. 


CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS AND DEVOTIONAL FORMULARIES. 

If God have made known his will that any given ceremony 
shall be performed in his church, that expression is sufficient: we 
do not then inquire into the reasonableness of the ceremony nor 
into its utility. There is nothing in the act of sprinkling water in 
an infant’s face, or of immersing the person of an adult, which re¬ 
commends it to the view of reason, any more than twenty other 
acts which might be performed : yet, if it be clear that such an act 
is required by the divine will, all further controversy is at an end. 
It is not the business, any more that it is the desire of the writer, 
here to enquire whether the Deity has thus expressed his will re¬ 
specting any of the rites which are adopted in some Christian 
churches; yet the reader should carefully bear in mind what it is 
that constitutes the obligation of a rite or ceremony, and what 
does not. Setting utility aside, the obligation must be constituted 
by an expression of the divine will: and he who inquires into the 
obligation of these things, should reflect that they acquire a sort 
of adventitious sanctity from the power of association. Being 
connected from early life with his ideas of religion, he learns to 
attach to them the authority which he attaches to religion itself; 
and thus perhaps he scarcely knows, because he does not inquire, 
whether a given institution is founded upon the law of God, or in¬ 
troduced by the authority of men. 

Of some ceremonies or rights, and of almost all formularies and 
other appendages of public wmrship, it is acknowledged that they 
possess no proper sanction from the Will of God. Supposing the 
written expression of that will to contain nothing by which we 
can judge either of their propriety or impropriety, the standard to 
which they are to be referred is that of Utility alone. 

Now, it is highly probable that benefits result from these ad¬ 
juncts of religion, because, in the present state of mankind, it may 
be expected that some persons are impressed with useful senti- 



110 


OF THE UTILITY 


Essay 2. 


ments respecting religion through the intervention of these ad¬ 
juncts, who might otherwise scarcely regard religion at all: it is 
probable that many are induced to attend upon public worship by 
the attraction of its appendages, who would otherwise stay away. 
Simply to be present at the font or the communion table, may be 
a means of inducing many religious considerations into the mind. 
And as to those who are attracted to public worship by its accom¬ 
paniments, they may at least be in the way of religious benefit. 
One goes to hear the singing, and one the organ, and one to see 
the paintings or the architecture: a still larger number go because 
they are sure to find some occupation for their thoughts; some 
prayers or other offices of devotion, something to hear, and see, 
and do. “ The transitions from one office of devotion to another, 
from confession to prayer, from prayer to thanksgiving, from 
thanksgiving to * hearing of the word,’ are contrived like scenes 
in the drama, to supply the mind with a succession of diversified 
engagements.” 1 These diversified engagements I say attract some 
who would not otherwise attend; and it is better that they should 
go from imperfect motives, than that they should not go at all. It 
must however be confessed, that the groundwork of this species of 
utility is similar to that which has been urged in favour of the use 
of images by the Romish church. “Idols,” say they, “are lay¬ 
men’s books; and a great means to stir up pious thoughts and 
devotion in the learnedest.” 2 Indeed, if it is once admitted that 
the prospect of advantage is a sufficient reason for introducing ob¬ 
jects addressed to the senses into the public offices of worship, it 
is not easy to define where we shall stop. If we may have magni¬ 
ficent architecture, and music, and chaunting, and paintings ; why 
may we not have the yet more imposing pomp of the catholic 
worship 1 I do not say that this pomp is useful and right, but that 
the principle on which such things are introduced into the worship 
of God, furnishes no satisfactory means of deciding what amount 
of external observances should be introduced, and what should not. 
If figures on canvass are lawful because they are useful, why is not 
a figure in marble or in wood 1 Why may we not have images 
by way of laymen’s books, and of stirring up pious thoughts and 
devotion ? 

But it is to be apprehended of such things, or of “ contrivances 
like scenes in a drama,” that they have much less tendency to 

1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 5, c. 5. a Milton’s Prose Works, v. 4, p. 266. 




Chap. 1. 


OF FORMS, &c. 


Ill 


promote devotion than some men may suppose. No doubt they 
may possess an imposing effect, they may powerfully interest and 
affect the imagination ; but does not this partake too much of that 
factitious devotion of which we speak 1 Is it certain that such 
things have much tendency to purify the mind, and raise up with¬ 
in it a power that shall efficiently resist temptation ] 

Even if some benefits do result from the employment of these 
appendages of worship, they are not without their dangers and 
their evils. With respect to those which are addressed to the 
senses, whether to the eye or ear, there is obviously a danger that 
like other sensible objects, they will withdraw the mind from its 
proper business,—the cultivation of pure religious affections to¬ 
wards God. And respecting the formularies of devotion, it has 
been said by a writer whom none will suspect of overstating their 
evils, “ The arrogant man, as if like the dervise in the Persian 
fable, he had shot his soul into .the character he assumes, repeats 
with complete self-application, Lord, I am not high-minded : the 
trifler says, I hate vain thoughts : the irreligious, Lord, how I 
love thy law: he who seldom prays at all, confidently repeats, 
All the day long I am occupied in thy statutes A 1 These are not 
light considerations: here is insincerity and untruths ; and insin¬ 
cerity and untruths, it should be remembered, in the place and at 
the time when we profess to be humbled in the presence of God. 
The evils too are inseparable from the system. Wherever pre¬ 
concerted formularies are introduced, there will always be some 
persons who join in the use of them without propriety, or sin¬ 
cerity, or decorum. Nor are the evils much extenuated by the 
hope which has been suggested, that u the holy vehicle of their 
hypocrisy may be made that of their conversion.” It is very 
christian-like to indulge this hope, though I fear it is not very 
reasonable. Hypocrisy is itself an offence against God; and it 
can scarcely be expected that any thing so immediately connected 
with the offence, will often effect such an end. 

It is not however in the case of those who use these forms in a 
manner positively hypocritical, that the greatest evil and danger 
consists : “ There is a kind of mechanical memory in the tongue, 
which runs over the form without any aid of the understanding, 
without any concurrence of the will, without any consent of the 
affections ; for do we not sometimes implore God to hear a prayer 

1 More’s Moral Sketches, 3rd Ed. p. 429. 


112 


FORMS OF PRAYER. 


Essay 2. 


to which we are ourselves not attending]” 1 We have sufficient 
reason for knowing that to draw nigh to God with our lips whilst 
uur hearts are far from him, is a serious offence in his sight; and 
when it is considered how powerful is the tendency of oft-repeated 
words to lose their practical connection with feelings and ideas, it 
is to be feared that this class of evils resulting from the use of 
forms, is of very wide extent. Nor is it to be forgotten, that as 
even religious persons sometimes employ “ the form without any 
aid of the understanding,” so others are in danger of substituting 
the form for the reality, and of imagining that if they are exem¬ 
plary in the observance of the externals of devotion, the work of 
religion is done. 

Such circumstances may reasonably make us hesitate in de¬ 
ciding the question of the propriety of these external things, as a 
question of expediency . They may reasonably make us do more 
than this: for does Christianity allow us to invent a system of 
which some of the consequences are so bad, for the sake of a be¬ 
neficial end 1 

Forms of prayer have been supposed to rest on an authority 
somewhat more definite than that of other religious forms. “ The 
Lord’s prayer is a precedent, as well as a pattern, for forms of 
prayer. Our Lord appears, if not to have prescribed, at least to 
have authorized the use of fixed forms, when he complied with 
the request of the disciple who said unto him, Lord teach us to 
pray, as John also taught his disciples.” 2 If we turn to Matt. vi. 
where the fullest account is given of the subject, we are, I think, 
presented with a different view. Our Saviour, who had been in¬ 
stituting his more perfect laws in place of the doctrines which had 
been taught of old time, proceeded to the prevalent mode of giving 
alms, of praying, of fasting, and of laying up wealth. He first 
describes these modes, and then directs in what manner Christians 
ought to give alms and pray and fast. Now if it be contended 
that he requires us to employ that particular form of prayer which 
he then dictated, it must also be contended that he requires us to 
adopt that particular mode of giving money which he described, 
and those particular actions, when fasting, which he mentions. If 
we are obliged to use the form of prayer, we are obliged to give 
money in secret; and when we fast, to put oil upon our heads. 
If these particular modes were not enjoined, neither is the form of 
1 More’s Moral Sketches, 3rd Ed. p. 327. 2 Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3, b. 5, c. 5. 


Chap. 1. 


CEREMONIALS AND RITUALS. 


113 


prayer; and the Scriptures contain no indication that this form 
was ever used at all, either by the apostles or their converts. But 
if the argument only asserts that fixed forms are “ authorized” by 
the language of Christ, the question becomes a question merely of 
expediency. Supposing that they are authorized, they are to be 
employed only if they are useful. Even in this view, it may be 
remarked that there is no reason to suppose, from the Christian 
Scriptures, that either Christ himself or his apostles ever used a 
fixed form. If he had designed to authorize and therefore to re¬ 
commend their adoption, is it not probable that some indications 
of their having been employed would be presented 1 But instead 
of this, we find that every prayer which is recorded in the volume 
was delivered extempore, upon the then occasion, and arising out 
of the then existing circumstances. 

Yet after all, the important question is not between preconcerted 
and extempore prayer as such, but whether any prayer is proper 
and right but that which is elicited by the influence of the Divine 
power. The inquiry into this solemn subject would lead us too 
wide from our general business. The truth however, that “ we 
know not what to pray for as we ought,” is as truly applicable to 
extempore as to formal prayer. Words merely do not constitute 
prayer, whether they be prepared before hand, or conceived at the 
moment they are addressed. There is reason to believe that he 
only offers perfectly acceptable supplications, who offers them 
“ according to the will of God,” and “ of the ability which God 
giveth;”—and if such be indeed the truth, it is scarcely compati¬ 
ble either with a prescribed form of words or with extempore 
prayer at prescribed times.—Yet if any Christian, in the piety of 
his heart, believes it to be most conducive to his religious interests 
to pray at stated times or in fixed forms, far be it from me to cen¬ 
sure this the mode of his devotion, or to assume that his petition 
will not obtain access to the Universal Lord. 

Finally, respecting uncommanded ceremonials and rituals of all 
kinds, and respecting all the appendages of public worship which 
have been adopted as helps to devotion, there is one truth to which 
perhaps every good man will assent,—that if religion possessed 
its sufficient and rightful influence, if devotion of the heart were 
duly maintained without these things, they would no longer be 
needed. He who enjoys the vigorous exercise of his limbs is en¬ 
cumbered by the employment of a crutch. Whether the Christian 


i 




114 


SCEPTICISM. 


Essay 2. 


world is yet prepared for the relinquishment of these appendages 
and “ helps,”—whether an” equal degree of efficacious religion 
would be maintained without them,—are questions which I pre¬ 
sume not to determine : but it may nevertheless be decided, that 
this is the state of the Christian church to which we should direct 
our hopes and our endeavours,—and that Christianity will never 
possess its proper influence, and will not effect its destined objects, 
until the internal dedication of the heart is universally attained. 


To those who may sometimes be brought into contact with per¬ 
sons who profess scepticism respecting Christianity, and especially 
to those who are conscious of any tendency in their own minds to 
listen to the objections of these persons, it may be useful to ob¬ 
serve, that the grounds upon which sceptics build their disbelief of 
Christianity are commonly very slight. The number is compara¬ 
tively few whose opinions are^the result of any tolerable degree of 
investigation. They embraced sceptical notions through the means 
which they now take of diffusing them amongst others,—not by 
arguments but jests; not by objections to the historical evidence 
of Christianity, but by conceits and witticisms; not by examining 
the nature of the religion as it was delivered by its Founder, but 
by exposing the conduct of those who profess it. Perhaps the 
seeming paradox is true, that no men are so credulous, that no men 
accept important propositions upon such slender evidence, as the 
majority of those who reject Christianity. To believe that the 
religious opinions of almost all the civilized world are founded up¬ 
on imposture, is to believe an important proposition; a proposition 
which no man, who properly employs his faculties, would believe 
without considerable weight of evidence. But what is the evi¬ 
dence upon which the “ unfledged witlings who essay their waiiton 
efforts” against religion, usually found their notions 1 Alas! they 
are so far from having rejected Christianity upon the examination 
of its evidences, that they do not know what Christianity is. To 
disbelieve the religion of Christianity upon grounds which shall be 
creditable to the understanding, involves no light task. A man 
must investigate and scrutinize; he must examine the credibility 
of testimony; he must weigh and compare evidence; he must in¬ 
quire into the reality of historical facts. If, after rationally doing 
all this, he disbelieves in Christianity,—be it so. I think him, 




Chap . 1. 


MOTIVES TO SCEPTICISM. 


115 


doubtless, mistaken, but I do not think him puerile and credulous. 
But he who professes scepticism without any of this species of 
inquiry, is credulous and puerile indeed: and such, most sceptics 
actually are. “ Concerning unbelievers and doubters of every 
class, one observation may almost universally be made with truth, 
that they are little acquainted with the nature of the Christian re¬ 
ligion, and still less with the evidence by which it is supported.” 1 
In France, scepticism has extended itself as widely perhaps as in 
any country in the world, and its philosophers, forty or fifty years 
ago, were ranked amongst the most intelligent and sagacious of 
mankind. And upon what grounds did these men reject Christ¬ 
ianity ? Dr. Priestley went with Lord Shelburne to France, and 
he says, “ I had an opportunity of seeing and conversing with 
every person of eminence wherever we came:” I found “all the 
philosophical persons to whom I was introduced at Paris, unbe¬ 
lievers in Christianity, and even professed atheists. As I chose 
on all occasions to appear as a Christian, I was told by some of 
them that I was the only person they had ever met with, of whose 
understanding they had any opinion, who professed to believe in 
Christianity. But on interrogating them on the subject, I soon 
found that they had given no proper attention to it , and did not 
really know what Christianity was. This was also the case with 
a great part of the company that I saw at Lord Shelburne’s.” 2 If 
these philosophical men rejected Christianity in such contemptible 
and shameful ignorance of its nature and evidences, upon what 
grounds are we to suppose the ordinary striplings of infidelity re¬ 
ject it ] 

How then does it happen that those who affect scepticism are 
so ambitious to make their scepticism known 1 Because it is a 
short and easy road to distinction; because it affords a cheap 
means of gratifying vanity. To “ rise above vulgar prejudices 
and superstitions,”—“ to entertain enlarged and liberal opinions,” 
are phrases of great attraction, especially to young men; and how 
shall they show that they rise above vulgar prejudices, how shall 
they so easily manifest the enlargement of their views, as by re¬ 
jecting a system which all their neighbours agree to be true 1 They 
feel important to themselves and that they are objects of curiosity 
to others: and they are objects of curiosity, not on account of 
their own qualities, but on account of the greatness of that which 
1 Gisborne’s Duties of Men. 2 Memoirs of Dr. Priestley, 




116 


MOTIVES TO SCEPTICISM. 


Essay 2. 


they contemn. The peasant who reviles a peasant, may revile 
him without an auditor, but a province will listen to him who vili¬ 
fies a king. I know not that an intelligent person should be ad¬ 
vised to reason with these puny assailants: their notions and their 
conduct are not the result of reasoning. What they need is the 
humiliation of vanity and the exposure of folly. A few simple 
interrogations would expose their folly; and for the purposes of 
humiliation, simply pass them by. The sun that shines upon them 
makes them look bright and large. Let reason and truth withdraw 
their rays, and these seeming stars will quickly set in silence and 
in darkness. 

More contemptible motives to the profession of infidelity cannot 
perhaps exist, but there are some which are more detestable. 
Hartley says that “ the strictness and purity of the Christian reli¬ 
gion in respect to sexual licentiousness, is probably the chief thing 
which makes vicious men first fear and hate, and then vilify and 
oppose it.” 1 

Whether therefore we regard the motives which lead to scepti¬ 
cism, or the reasonableness of the grounds upon which it is com¬ 
monly founded, there is surely much reason for an ingenuous young 
person to hold in contempt the jests, and pleasantries, and sophis¬ 
tries respecting revelation with which he may be assailed. 


1 Observations on Man. 




CHAPTER II. 


PROPERTY. 

Disquisitions respecting the Origin of Property appear to be 
of little use; partly because the origin can scarcely be determined, 
and partly because, if it could be determined, the discovery would 
be little applicable to the present condition of human affairs. In 
whatever manner an estate was acquired two thousand years ago, 
it is of no consequence in inquiring who ought to possess it now. 

The foundation of the Right of Property is a more important 
point. Ordinarily, the foundation is the law of the land. Of 
Civil Government—which institution is sanctioned by the divine 
will—one of the great offices is, to regulate the distribution of 
property; to give it, if it has the power of giving ; or to decide, 
between opposing claimants, to whom it shall be assigned. 

The proposition therefore, as a general rule, is sound;— He 
possesses a right to property to whom the law of the land assigns 
it. This however is only a general rule. It has been sufficiently 
seen that some legal possessions are not permitted by the Moral 
Law. The occasional opposition between the moral and the legal 
right to property, is inseparable from the principle on which law 
is founded,—that of acting upon general rules. It is impossible 
to frame any rule the application of which shall, in every variety 
of circumstances, effect the requisitions of Christian morality. A 
rule which in nine cases proves equitable, may prove utterly un¬ 
just in the tenth. A rule which in nine cases promotes the wel¬ 
fare of the citizen, may in the tenth outrage reason and humanity. 

It is evident that in the present state of legal institutions, the 
evils which result from laws respecting property must be prevent¬ 
ed, if they are prevented at all, by the exercise of virtue in indi¬ 
viduals. If the law assigns a hundred pounds to me, which every 
upright man perceives ought in equity to have been assigned to 
another, that other has no means of enforcing his claim. Either 




118 PERPETUAL OBLIGATION TO PAY DEBTS. Essay 2, 


therefore the claim of equity must be disregarded, or / must vo¬ 
luntarily satisfy it. 

There are many cases connected with the acquisition or retention 
of property, with which the decisions of law are not immediately 
connected, but respecting which it is needful to exercise a careful 
discrimination, in order to conform to the requisitions of Christian 
rectitude. The whole subject is of great interest, and of extensive 
practical application in the intercourse of life. The reader will 
therefore be presented with several miscellaneous examples, in 
which the Moral Law appears to require greater purity of recti¬ 
tude than is required by statutes, or than is ordinarily practised 
by mankind. 

Insolvency.— -Why is a man obliged to pay his debts'? It is 
to be hoped that the morality of few persons is lax enough to re¬ 
ply—Because the law compels him. But why then is he obliged 
to pay them ] Because the Moral Law requires it. That this is 
the primary ground of the obligation is evident; otherwise the 
payment of any debt which a vicious or corrupt legislature resolved 
to cancel, would cease to be obligatory upon the debtor. The Vir¬ 
ginian statute, which we noticed in the last Essay, would have 
been a sufficient justification to the planters to defraud their cre¬ 
ditors. 

A man becomes insolvent and is made a bankrupt: he pays his 
creditors ten shillings instead of twenty, and obtains his certificate. 
The law therefore discharges him from the obligation to pay more. 
The bankrupt receives a large legacy, or he engages in business 
and acquires property. Being then able to pay the remainder of 
his debts, does the legal discharge exempt him from the obligation 
to pay them'? No: and for this reason, that the legal discharge 
is not a moral discharge; that as the duty to pay at all was not 
founded primarily on the law, the law cannot warrant him in with¬ 
holding a part. 

It is however said, that the creditors have relinquished their 
right to the remainder by signing the certificate. But why did 
they accept half their demands instead of the whole 1 Because 
they were obliged to do it; they could get no more. As to grant¬ 
ing the certificate, they do it because to withhold it would be only 
an act of gratuitous unkindness. It would be preposterous to say 
that creditors relinquish their claims voluntarily ; for no one would 



Chap. 2. PERPETUAL OBLIGATION TO PAY DEBTS. 119 

give up his claim to twenty shillings on the receipt of ten, if he 
could get the other ten by refusing. It might as reasonably be 
said that a man parts with a limb voluntarily, because, having 
incurably lacerated it he submits to an amputation. It is to be 
remembered too, that the necessary relinquishment of half the 
demand is occasioned by the debtor himself: and it seems very 
manifest that when a man, by his own act, deprives another of his 
property, he cannot allege the consequences of that act as a justi¬ 
fication of withholding it after restoration is in his power. 

The mode in which an insolvent man obtains a discharge, does 
not appear to affect his subsequent duties. Compositions, and 
bankruptcies, and. discharges by an insolvent act, are in this re¬ 
spect alike. The acceptance of a part instead of the whole is not 
voluntary in either case; and neither case exempts the debtor 
from the obligation to pay in full if he can. 

If it should be urged that when a person intrusts property to 
another, he knowingly undertakes the risk of that other’s insol¬ 
vency, and that if the contingent loss happens, he has no claims 
to justice on the other, the answer is this: that whatever may be 
thought of these claims, they are not the grounds upon which the 
debtor is obliged to pay. The debtor always engages to pay, and 
the engagement is enforced by morality: the engagement therefore 
is binding, whatever risk another man may incur by relying upon 
it. The causes which have occasioned a person’s insolvency, al¬ 
though they greatly affect his character, do not affect his obliga¬ 
tions : the duty to repay when he has the power, is the same whe¬ 
ther the insolvency were occasioned by his fault or his misfortune. 
In all cases, the reasoning that applies to the debt, applies also to 
the interest that accrues upon it; although, with respect to the 
acceptance of both, and especially of interest, a creditor should 
exercise a considerate discretion.—A man who has failed of pay¬ 
ing his debts ought always to live with frugality, and carefully to 
economize such money as he gains. He should reflect that he is 
a trustee for his creditors, and that all the needless money which 
he expends is not his but theirs. 

The amount of property which the trading part of a commercial 
nation loses by insolvency, is great enough to constitute a consi¬ 
derable national evil. The fraud too that is practised under cover 
of insolvency, is doubtless the most extensive of all species of 
private robbery. The profligacy of some of these cases is well 


120 


REFORM OF PUBLIC OPINION. 


Essay 2. 


known to be extreme. He who is a bankrupt to-day, riots in the 
luxuries of affluence to-morrow; bows to the creditors whose 
money he is spending, and exults in the success and the impunity 
of his wickedness. Of such conduct, we should not speak or 
think but with detestation. We should no more sit at the table, 
or take the hand, of such a man, than if we knew he had got his 
money last night on the highway. There is a wickedness in some 
bankruptcies to which the guilt of ordinary robbers approaches 
but at a distance. Happy, if such wickedness could not be prac¬ 
tised with legal impunity l 1 Happy, if Public Opinion supplied 
the deficiency of the law, and held the iniquity in rightful abhor¬ 
rence ! 2 

Perhaps nothing would tend so efficaciously to diminish the ge¬ 
neral evils of insolvency, as a sound state of public opinion re¬ 
specting the obligation to pay our debts. The insolvent who, with 
the means of paying, retains the money in his own pocket, is, and 
he should be regarded as being, a dishonest man. If Public Opi¬ 
nion held such conduct to be of the same character as theft, pro¬ 
bably a more powerful motive to avoid insolvency would be estab¬ 
lished than any which now exists. Who would not anxiously (and 
therefore in almost all cases, successfully) struggle against insol¬ 
vency, when he knew that it would be followed, if not by perma¬ 
nent poverty, by permanent disgrace 1 If it should be said that to 
act upon such a system would overwhelm an insolvent’s energies, 
keep him in perpetual inactivity, and deprive his family of the 
benefit of his exertions,—I answer, that the evil, supposing it to 
impend, would be much less extensive than may be imagined. The 
calamity being foreseen, would prevent men from becoming insol¬ 
vent ; and it is certain that the majority might have avoided in¬ 
solvency by sufficient care. Besides, if a man’s principles are 
such that he would rather sink into inactivity than exert himself 
in order to be just, it is not necessary to mould public opinion to 
his character. The question too is, not whether some men would 
not prefer indolence to the calls of justice, but whether the public 
should judge accurately respecting what those calls are. The state, 
and especially a family, might lose occasionally by this reform of 
opinion,—and so they do by sending a man to New South Wales; 
but who would think this a good reason for setting criminals at 
large ? And after all, much more would be gained by preventing 
1 See the 3rd Essay. 2 Id. 


Chap. 2. 


EXAMPLES OF INTEGRITY. 


121 


insolvency, than lost by the ill consequences upon the few who 
failed to pay their debts. 

It is cause of satisfaction that, respecting this rectified state of 
opinion, and respecting integrity of private virtue, some examples 
are offered. There is one community of Christians which holds its 
members obliged to pay their debts whenever they possess the 
ability, without regard to the legal discharge. 1 By this means, 
there is thrown over the character of every bankrupt who pos¬ 
sesses property, a shade which nothing but payment can dispel. 
The effect (in conjunction we may hope with private integrity of 
principle) is good—good, both in instituting a new motive to avoid 
insolvency, and in inducing some of those who do become insol¬ 
vent, subsequently to pay all their debts. 

Of this latter effect many honourable instances might be given: 
two of which have fallen under my observation, I would briefly 
mention.—A man had become insolvent, I believe in early life; 
his creditors divided his property amongst them, and gave him a 
legal discharge. He appears to have formed the resolution to pay 
the remainder, if his own exertions should enable him to do it. 
He procured employment, by which however he never gained more 
than twenty shillings a-week; and worked industriously and lived 
frugally for eighteen years. At the expiration of this time, he 
found he had accumulated enough to pay the remainder, and he 
sent the money to his creditors. Such a man, I think, might hope 
to derive, during the remainder of his life, greater satisfaction 
from the consciousness of integrity, than he would have derived 
from expending the money on himself. It should be told that 
many of his creditors, when they heard the circumstances, declined 
to receive the money or voluntarily presented it to him again. 
One of these was my neighbour: he had been little accustomed 
to exemplary virtue, and the proffered money astonished him: he 

1 “ Where any have injured others in their property, the greatest frugality should 
be observed by themselves and their families; and although they may have a legal 
discharge from their creditors, both equity and our Christian profession demand, that 
none when they have it in their power, should rest satisfied until a just restitution be 
made to those who have suffered by them.” 

“ And it is the judgment of this meeting, that monthly and other meetings ought 
not to receive collections or bequests for the use of the poor or any other services of 
the Society, of persons who have fallen short in the payment of their just debts, though 
legally discharged by their creditors: for until such persons have paid the deficiency, 
their possessions cannot in equity be considered as their own.” 

Official Documents of the Yearly Meeting of the Society of Friends. 


122 


WILLS. 


Essay 2. 


talked in loud commendation of what to him was unheard-of in¬ 
tegrity; signed a receipt for the amount, and sent it back as a 
present to the debtor. The other instance may furnish hints of a 
useful kind. It was the case of a female who had endeavoured to 
support herself by the profits of a shop. She however became 
insolvent, paid some dividend, and received a discharge. She 
again entered into business, and in the course of years had accu¬ 
mulated enough to pay the remainder of her debts. But the infir¬ 
mities of age were now coming on, and the annual income from 
her savings was just sufficient for the wants of declining years. 
Being thus at present unable to discharge her obligations without 
subjecting herself to the Necessity of obtaining relief from others; 
she executed a will, directing that at her death the creditors should 
be paid the remainder of their demands : and when she died, they 
were paid accordingly. 

Wills, Legatees, and Heirs. The right of a person to order 
the distribution of his property after death, is recommended by its 
Utility; and were this less manifest than it is, it would be suffici¬ 
ent for us that the right is established by civil government. 

It however happens in practice, that persons sometimes distri¬ 
bute their property in a manner that is both unreasonable and un¬ 
just. This evil the law cannot easily remedy ; and consequently 
the duty of remedying it, devolves upon those to whom the pro¬ 
perty is bequeathed. If they do not prevent the injustice, it can¬ 
not be prevented. This indicates the propriety, on the part of a 
legatee or an heir, of considering, when property devolves to him 
in a manner or in a proportion that appears improper, how he may 
exercise upright integrity lest he should be the practical agent of 
injustice or oppression. Another cause for the exercise of this 
integrity consists in this circumstance:—When the right of a 
person to bequeath his property is admitted, it is evident that his 
intention ought in general to be the standard of his successor’s 
conduct: and accordingly the law, in making enactments upon the 
subject, directs much of its solicitude to the means of ascertaining 
and of fulfilling the testator’s intentions. These intentions must, 
according to the existing systems of Jurisprudence be ascertained 
by some general rules,—-by a written declaration perhaps, or a 
declaration of a specified kind, or made in a prescribed form, or 
attested in a particular manner. But in consequence of this it 
happens, that as through accident or inadvertency a testator does 


Chap. 2. 


INFORMAL WILLS. 


123 


not always comply with these forms, the law, which adheres to its 
rules, frustrates his intentions and therefore, in effect, defeats its 
own object in prescribing the forms. Here again the intentions 
of the deceased and the demands of equity cannot be fulfilled, ex¬ 
cept by the virtuous integrity of heirs and legatees. 

I. If my father, who had one son besides myself, left nine- 
tenths of his property to me, and only the remaining tenth to my 
brother, I should not think the will, however authentic, justified 
me in taking so large a proportion, unless I could discover some 
reasonable motive which influenced my father’s mind. If my bro¬ 
ther already possessed a fortune and I had none; if I were mar¬ 
ried and had a numerous family, and he were single and unlikely 
to marry; if he was incurably extravagant, and would probably 
in a few weeks or months squander his patrimony ; in these or in 
such circumstances, I should think myself at liberty to appropri¬ 
ate my father’s bequest: otherwise I should not. Thus, if the 
disproportionate division was the effect of some unreasonable pre¬ 
judice against my brother, or fondness for me ; or if it was made 
at the unfair instigation of another person, or in a temporary fit of 
passion or disgust; I could not, virtuously, enforce the will. The 
reason is plain. The will being unjust or extremely unreasonable, 
I should be guilty of injustice or extreme unreasonableness in en¬ 
forcing it. 

By the English law, the real estates of deceased persons are 
not available for the payment of debts of simple contract, unless 
they are made so by the will. The rule is, to be sure, sufficiently 
barbarous; and he who intentionally forbears to make the estates 
available, dies as has been properly observed, with a deliberate 
fraud in his heart. But this fraud cannot be completed without 
the concurrence of a second person, the heir. He therefore is un¬ 
der a moral obligation to pay such debts out of the real estate, 
notwithstanding the deficiency of the will: for if the father was 
fraudulent in making such a will, the son is fraudulent in taking 
advantage of his parent’s wickedness. He may act with strict le¬ 
gality in keeping the property, but he is condemned as dishonest 
by the Moral Law. 

II. A person bequeaths five hundred pounds to some charity,— 
for example, to the Foundling,—and directs that the money shall 
be laid out in land. His intention is indisputably plain : but the 
law, with certain motives, says, that the direction to lay out the 


124 


INFORMAL WILLS. 


Essay 2. 


money in land makes the bequest void; and it will not enforce 
the bequest. But, because the testator forgot this, can the residu- 
duary legatee honestly put the five hundred pounds into his own 
pocket 1 Assuredly he cannot. The money is as truly the pro¬ 
perty of the Foundling as if the will had been accurately framed. 
The circumstance that the law will not compel him to give it up, 
although it may exempt him from an action, cannot exempt him 
from guilt. 

The law, either with reason or without it, prefers that an estate 
should descend to a brother’s son rather than a sister’s. Still it 
permits a man to leave it to his sister’s son if he pleases; and 
only requires, that when he wishes to do this, he shall have three 
witnesses to his will instead of two. The reader will remark that 
the object of this legal provision is, that the intention of the party 
shall be indisputably known. The legislature does not wish to 
control him in the disposition of his property, but only to ascer¬ 
tain distinctly what his intention is. A will then is made, leaving 
an estate to a sister’s son, and is attested by two witnesses only. 
The omission of the third is a matter of mere inadvertence: no 
doubt exists as to the person’s intention or its reasonableness. Is 
it then consistent with integrity for the brother’s son to take ad¬ 
vantage of the omission, and to withhold the estate from his cou¬ 
sin 1 I think the conscience of every man will answer no : and if 
this be the fact, we need inquire no further. Upon such a subject, 
the concurrent dictates in the minds of men can scarcely be other¬ 
wise than true and just. But even critically, the same conclusion 
appears to follow. The Law required three witnesses in order 
that the person’s intention should be known. Now it is known: 
and therefore the very object of the law is attained. To take ad¬ 
vantage of the omission is, in reality, to misapply the law. It is 
insisting upon its letter in opposition to its motives and design. 
Dr. Paley has decided this question otherwise, by a process of 
reasoning of which the basis does not appear very sound. He 
says that such a person has no “right” to dispose of the property, 
because the law conferred the right upon condition that he should 
have three witnesses, with which condition he has not complied. 
But surely the “ right ” of disposing property is recognized gene¬ 
rally by the law; the requisition of three witnesses is not de¬ 
signed to confer a right but to adjust the mode of exercising it. 
Indeed, Paley himself virtually gives up his own doctrine; for he 




Chap. 2. INTESTATES.—CHARITABLE BEQUESTS. 125 


says he should hesitate in applying it, if “ considerations of pity 
to distress, of duty to a parent, or of gratitude to a benefactor,” 1 
would be disregarded by the application. Why should these con¬ 
siderations suspend the applicability of his doctrine 1 Because 
Christianity requires us to attend to them,—which is the very 
truth we are urging :—we say, the permission of the law is not a 
sufficient warrant to disregard the obligations of Christianity. 

A man who possesses five thousand pounds, has two sons, of 
whom John is well provided for, and Thomas is not. With the 
privity of his sons he makes a will, leaving four thousand pounds 
to Thomas and one to John, explaining to both the reason of this 
division. A fire happens in the house and the will is burnt; and 
the father, before he has the opportunity of making another, is 
carried off by a fever. Now the English law would assign a half 
of the money to each brother. If John demands his half, is he a 
just man 1 Every one I think will perceive that he is not, and 
that if he demanded it, he would violate the duties of benevo¬ 
lence. The law is not his sufficient rule. 

A person whose near relations do not stand in need of his mo¬ 
ney, adopts the children of distant relatives, with the declared in¬ 
tention or manifest design of providing for them at his death. If, 
under such circumstances, he dies without a will, the heir at law 
could not morally avail himself of his legal privilege, to the in¬ 
jury of these expectant parties. They need the money, and he 
does not; which is one good reason for not seizing it; but the in¬ 
tention of the deceased invested them with a right; and so that 
the intention is known, it matters little to the moral obligation, 
whether it is expressed on paper or not. 

Possibly some reader may say, that if an heir or legatee must 
always institute inquiries into the uncertain claims of others be¬ 
fore he accepts the property of the deceased, and if he is obliged 
to give up his own claims whenever their’s seem to preponderate, 
he will be involved in endless doubts and scruples, and testators 
will never know whether their wills will be executed or not: the 
answer is, that no such scrupulousness is demanded. Hardheart¬ 
edness, and extreme unreasonableness, and injustice, are one class 
of considerations; critical scruples, and uncertain claims, are 
another. 

It may be worth a paragraph to remark, that it is to be feared 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 23. 





126 


MINORS’ DEBTS. 


Essay 2. 


some persons think too complacently of their charitable bequests, 
or what is worse, hope that it is a species of good works which 
will counterbalance the offence of some present irregularities of 
conduct. Such bequests ought not to be discouraged; and yet it 
should be remembered, that he who gives money after his death, 
parts with nothing of his own. He gives it only when he cannot 
retain it. The man who leaves his money for the single purpose 
of doing good, does right: but he who hopes that it is a work of 
merit, should remember that the money is given, that the priva¬ 
tion is endured, not by himself but by his heirs. A man who has 
more than he needs, should dispense it whilst it is his own. 

Minors’ Debts. A young man under twenty-one years of age 
purchases articles of a tradesman, of which some are necessary 
and some are not. Payment for unnecessary articles cannot be 
enforced by the English law,—the reason with the legislature be¬ 
ing this, that thoughtless youths might be practised upon by de¬ 
signing persons, and induced to make needless and extravagant 
purchases. But is the youth who purchases unnecessary articles 
with the promise to pay when he becomes of age, exempted from 
the obligation 1 Now it is to be remembered, generally, that this 
obligation is not founded upon the law of the land, and therefore 
that the law cannot dispense with it. But if the tradesman has 
actually taken advantage of the inexperience of a youth, to cajole 
him into debts of which he was not conscious of the amount or 
the impropriety, it does not appear that he is obliged to pay 
them ; and for this reason, that he did not, in any proper sense of 
the term, come under an obligation to pay them. In other cases, 
the obligation remains. The circumstance that the law will not 
assist the creditor to recover the money does not dispense with it. 
It is fit, no doubt, that these dishonourable tradesmen should be 
punished, though the mode of punishing them is exceptionable 
indeed. It operates as a powerful temptation to fraud in young 
men, and it is a bad system to discourage dishonesty in one per¬ 
son by tempting the probity of another. The youth too is of all 
persons the last who should profit by the punishment of the tra¬ 
der. He is reprehensible himself: young men who contract such 
debts are seldom so young or so ignorant as not to know that 
they are doing wrong. 



Chap. 2. A WIFE’S DEBTS.—BILLS OF EXCHANGE. 127 

A man’s wife “runs him into debt” by extravagant purchases 
which he is alike unable to prevent or to afford. Many persons 
sell goods to such a woman, who are conscious of her habits and 
of the husband’s situation, yet continue to supply her extrava¬ 
gance, because they know the law will enable them to enforce 
payment from the husband. These persons act legally, but they 
are legally wicked. Do they act as they would desire others to 
act towards them] Would one of these men wish another trades¬ 
man so to supply his own wife if she was notoriously a spend¬ 
thrift ] If not, morality condemns his conduct: and the laws, in 
effect, condemn it too; for the legislature would not have made 
husbands responsible for their wives’ debts any more than for 
their children’s, but for the presumption that the wife generally 
buys what the husband approves. Debts of unprincipled extrava¬ 
gance, are not debts which the law intended to provide that the 
husband should pay. If all women contracted such debts, the le¬ 
gislature would instantly alter the law. If the legislature could 
have made the distinction, perhaps it would have made it; since 
it did not or could not, the deficiency must be supplied by private 
integrity. 

Bills of Exchange. The law of England provides, that if 
the possessor of a Bill of exchange fails to demand payment on 
the day on which it becomes due, he takes the responsibility, in 
case of its eventual non-payment, from the previous endorsers, 
and incurs it himself. This as a general rule may be just. A 
party may be able to pay to day and unable a week hence ; and 
if in such a case a loss arises by one man’s negligence, it were 
manifestly unreasonable that it should be sustained by others. 
But if the acceptor becomes unable to pay a week or a month 
before the bill is due, tbe previous endorsers cannot in justice 
throw the loss upon the last possessor, even though he fails to 
present it on the appointed day. For why did the law make its 
provision! In order to secure persons from the loss of their pro¬ 
perty by the negligence of others over whom they had no control. 
But, in the supposed case, the loss is not occasioned by any such 
cause, and therefore the spirit of the law does not apply to it. 
You are insisting upon its literal, in opposition to its just, inter¬ 
pretation. Whether the bill was presented on the right day or 
the wrong, makes no difference to the previous endorsers, and for 
such a case the law was not made. 



128 


WRECKS. 


Essay 2. 


A similar rule of virtue applies to the case of giving notice of 
refusal to accept or to pay. If, in consequence of the want of this 
notice, the party is subjected to loss, he may avail himself of the 
legal exemption from the last possessor’s claim. If the want of 
notice made no difference in his situation, he may not. 

Shipments. The same principles apply to a circumstance 
which not unfrequently occurs amongst men of business, and in 
which integrity is, I think, very commonly sacrificed to interest. 
A tradesman in Falmouth is in the habit of purchasing goods of 
merchants in London, by whom the goods are forwarded in ves¬ 
sels to Falmouth. Now it is a rule of law founded upon esta¬ 
blished custom, that goods when shipped are at the risk of the 
buyer. The law however requires that an account of the shipment 
shall be sent to the buyer by post, in order that, if he thinks pro¬ 
per, he may insure his goods : and in order to effect this object, 
the law directs, that if the account be not sent and the vessel is 
wrecked, it will not enforce payment from the buyer. All this as 
a general rule is just. But in the actual transactions of business, 
goods are very frequently sent by sea by an expressed or tacit 
agreement between the parties without notice by the post. The 
Falmouth tradesman then is in the habit of thus conducting the 
matter for a series of years. He habitually orders his goods to 
be sent by ship, and the merchant, as habitually, with the buyer’s 
knowledge, sends the invoice with them. Of course the buyer is 
not in the habit of insuring. At length a vessel is wrecked and a 
package is lost. When the merchant applies for payment, the 
tradesman says—“ No : you sent no invoice by post: I shall not 
pay you, and I know you cannot compel me by law.” Now this 
conduct I think is condemned by morality. The man in Falmouth 
does not suffer any loss in consequence of the want of notice. He 
would not have insured if he had received it; and therefore the 
intention of the legislature in withholding its assistance from the 
merchant, was not to provide for such a case. Thus to take ad¬ 
vantage of the law without regard to its intention is unjust. 
Besides, the custom of sending the invoice with the goods rather 
than by post, is for the advantage of the buyer only : : —it saves 
him a shilling in postage. The understanding amongst men of 
business that the risk of loss at sea impends on buyers is so com¬ 
plete, that they habitually take that risk into account in the pro¬ 
fits which they demand on their goods : sellers do not; and this 


DISTRAINTS. 


129 


Chap. 2. 


again indicates the injustice of throwing the loss upon the seller 
when an accident happens at sea.—'Yet tradesmen I believe rarely 
practice any other justice than that which the law will enforce; 
as if not to he compelled by law were to be exempt from all mo¬ 
ral obligation. It is hardly necessary to observe, that if the man 
in Falmouth was actually prevented from insuring by the want of 
an invoice by post, he has a claim of justice as well as of law 
upon the merchant in London. 

Distraints. It is well known that in distraints for rent, the 
law allows the landlord to seize whatever goods he finds upon the 
premises, without inquiring to whom they belong. And this rule, 
like many others, is as good as a general rule can be; since an 
unprincipled tenant might easily contrive to make it appear that 
none of the property w r as his own, and thus the landlord might be 
irremediably defrauded. Yet the landlord cannot always virtu¬ 
ously act upon the rule of law. A tenant who expects a distraint 
to-morrow, and of whose profligacy a lodger in the house has no 
suspicion, secretly removes his own goods in the night, and leaves 
the lodger’s to be seized by the bailiff. The landlord ought not, 
as a matter of course, to take these goods, and to leave a family 
perhaps without a table or a bed. The law indeed allows it, but 
benevolence, but probity, does not. 

A man came to a friend of mine and proposed to take a num¬ 
ber of his sheep to graze. My friend agreed with him, and sent 
the sheep. The next day these sheep w r ere seized by the man’s 
landlord for rent. It was an artifice, preconcerted between the 
landlord and the tenant in order that the rent might be paid out of 
my friend’s pocket! Did this landlord act justly] The reader 
says “ No, he deserved a prison.” And yet the seizure was per¬ 
mitted by the law; and if morality did not possess an authority 
superior to law r , the seizure would have been just. Now, in less 
flagitious instances, the same regard to the dictates of morality is 
to be maintained notwithstanding the permissions of law.—The 
contrivers of this abandoned iniquity possessed the effrontery to 
come afterwards to the gentleman whom they had defrauded, to 
offer to compound the matter; to send back the sheep which w r ere 
of the value perhaps of fifty pounds, if he would give them thirty 
pounds in money. He refused to countenance such wickedness 
by the remotest implication, and sent them aw r ay to enjoy all 
their plunder. 




130 


UNJUST DEFENDANTS. 


Essay 2 . 


Theoretically, perhaps no seizures are unjust when no fraud is 
practised by the landlord, because persons who entrust their pro¬ 
perty on the premises of another, are supposed to know the risk, 
and voluntarily to undertake it. But in practice, this risk is often 
not thought of and not known. Besides, mere justice is not the 
only thing which a landlord has to take into account. The autho¬ 
rity which requires us to be just, requires us to be compassionate 
and kind. And here, as in many other cases, it may be remarked, 
that the object of the law in allowing landlords to seize whatever 
they find, was to protect tfipm from fraud, and not to facilitate 
the oppression of under-tenants and others. If the first tenant has 
practised no fraud, it seems a violation of the intention of the law, 
to enforce it against those who happen to have entrusted their 
property in his hands. 

Unjust Defendants. It does not present a very favourable 
view of the state of private principle, that there are so many who 
refuse justice to plaintiffs unless they are compelled to be just by 
the law. It is indisputable, that a multitude of suits are under¬ 
taken in order to obtain property or rights which the defendant 
knows he ought voluntarily to give up. Such a person is cer¬ 
tainly a dishonest man. When the verdict is given against him, 
I regard him in the light of a convicted robber,—differing from 
other robbers in the circumstance that he is tried at Nisi prius 
instead of the Crown bar. For what is the difference between 
him who takes what is another’s and him who withholds it! This 
severity of censure applies to some who are sued for damages. 
A man who, whether by design or inadvertency, has injured ano¬ 
ther, and will not compensate him unless he is legally compelled 
to do it, is surely unjust. Yet many of these persons seem to 
think that injury to property, or person, or character, entails no 
duty to make reparation except it be enforced. Why, the law 
does not create this duty, it only compels us to fulfil it. If the 
minds of such persons were under the influence of integrity, they 
would pay such debts without compulsion,—This subject is one 
amongst the many upon which Public Opinion needs to be aroused 
and to be rectified. When our estimates of moral character are 
adjusted to individual 'probity of principle, some of those who now 
pass in society as creditable persons, will be placed at the same 
point on the scale of morality, as many of those who are con¬ 
signed to a jail. 




Chap. 2 . 


EXTORTION.—SLAVES. 


131 


Extortion. It is a very common thing for a creditor who 
cannot obtain payment from the person who owes him money, to 
practise a species of extortion upon his relations or friends. The 
man perhaps is insolvent and unable to pay, and the creditor 
threatens to imprison him in order to induce his friends to pay 
the money rather than allow him to be immured in a jail. This is 
not honest. Why should a person be deprived of his property 
because he has a regard for the reputation and comfort of another 
man! It will be said that the debtor’s friends pay voluntarily ; 
but it is only with that sort of willingness with which a traveller 
gives his purse to a footpad, rather than be violently assaulted or 
perhaps killed. Both the footpad and the creditor are extortioners, 
—-one obtains money by threatening mischief to the person, and 
the other by threatening pain to the mind. We do not say that 
their actions are equal in flagitiousness, but we say that both are 
criminal.—It is said that, after the death of Sheridan, and when 
a number of men of rank were assembled to attend his funeral, a 
person elegantly dressed and stating himself to be a relation of 
the deceased, entered the chamber of death. He urgently in- 
treated to be allowed to view the face of his departed friend, and 
the coffin lead was unscrewed. The stranger pulled a warrant out 
of his pocket and arrested the body. It was probably a concerted 
scheme to obtain a sum (which it is supposed was five hundred 
pounds) that had been owing by the deceased. The creditor 
doubtless expected that a number of men of fortune would be pre¬ 
sent, who would prefer losing five hundred pounds to suffering 
the remains of their friend to be consigned to the police. The 
extortioner was successful: it is said that Lord Sidmouth and ano¬ 
ther gentleman paid the money. Was this creditor an honest 
man 1 If courts of Equity had existed adapted to such cases, and 
the man were prosecuted, the consciences of a jury would surely 
have impelled them to send him to Newgate. 

Slaves. If a person left me an estate in Virginia or the West 
Indies, with a hundred slaves, the law of the land allows me to 
keep possession of both; the Moral Law does not. I should there¬ 
fore hold myself imperatively obliged to give these persons their 
liberty. I do not say that I would manumit them all the next 
day; but if I deferred their liberation, it ought to be for their 
sakes not my own : just as if I had a thousand pounds for a minor, 
my motive in withholding it from him would be exclusively his 




132 


CAPTURES. 


Essay 2 . 


own advantage. Some persons who perceive the flagitiousness of 
Slavery, retain slaves. Much forbearance of thought and lan¬ 
guage should be observed towards the man, in whose mind per¬ 
haps there is a strong conflict between conscience and the diffi¬ 
culty or loss which might attend a regard to its dictates. I have 
met with a feeling and benevolent person who owned several 
hundred slaves, and who, I believe, secretly lamented his own 
situation. I would be slow in censuring such a man, and yet it 
ought not to be concealed, that if he complied with the requisitions 
of the Moral Law, he would at least hasten to prepare them for 
emancipation. To endeavour to extricate oneself from the diffi¬ 
culty by selling the slaves were self-imposition. A man may as 
well keep them in bondage himself as sell them to another who 
would keep them in it. A narrative has appeared in print of the 
conduct of a gentleman to whom a number of slaves had been be¬ 
queathed, and who acted towards them upon the principles which 
rectitude requires. He conveyed them to some other country, 
educated some, procured employment for others, and acted as a 
Christian towards all. 

Upon similar grounds, an upright man should not accept a pre¬ 
sent of a hundred pounds from a person who had not paid his 
debts, nor. become his legatee. If the money were not rightfully 
his, he cannot give it; if it be rightfully his creditors, it cannot 
be mine. 

Privateers. Although familiarity with war occasions many 
obliquities in the moral notions of a people, yet the silent verdict 
of public opinion is, I think, against the rectitude of Privateering. 
It is not regarded as creditable and virtuous; and this public dis¬ 
approbation appears to be on the increase. Considerable exertion 
at least has been made on the part of the American government, 
to abolish it.—To this private plunderer himself I do not talk of 
the obligations of morality: he has many lessons of virtue to 
learn before he will be likely to listen to such virtue as it is the 
object of these pages to recommend : but to him who perceives 
the flagitiousness of the practice, I would urge the consideration 
that he ought not to receive the plunder of a privateer even at se¬ 
cond hand. If a man ought not to be the legatee of a bankrupt, 
he ought not to be the legatee of him who gained his money by 
privateering. Yet it is to be feared that many who would not fit 
out a privateer, would accept the money which the owners had 


Chap. 2 . 


EXAMPLES OF INTEGRITY. 


133 


stolen. If it be stolen it is not their’s to give; and what one has 
no right to give, another has no right to accept. 

During one of our wars with France, a gentleman who enter¬ 
tained such views of integrity as these, was partner in a merchant 
vessel, and in spite of his representations the other owners re¬ 
solved to fit her out as a privateer. They did so, and she hap¬ 
pened to capture several vessels. This gentleman received from 
time to time his share of the prizes and laid it by; till at the 
conclusion of the war, it had amounted to a considerable sum. 
What was to be done with the money 1 He felt that as an up¬ 
right man he could not retain the money; and he accordingly 
went to France, advertised for the owners of the captured vessels, 
and returned to them the amount. Such conduct, instead of being 
a matter for good men to admire and for men of loose morality to 
regard as needless scrupulosity, ought, when such circumstances 
arise, to be an ordinary occurrence. I do not relate the fact be¬ 
cause I think it entitles the party to any extraordinary praise. 
He was honest; and honesty was his duty. The praise, if praise 
be due, consists in this,—that he was upright where most men 
would have been unjust. Similar integrity upon parallel subjects 
may often be exhibited again :—upon privateering it cannot often 
be repeated; for when the virtue of the public is great enough 
to make such integrity frequent, it will be great enough to frown 
privateering from the world. 

At the time of war with the Dutch about forty years ago, an 
English merchant vessel captured a Dutch Indiaman. It hap¬ 
pened that one of the owners of the merchantman was one of the 
society of Friends or Quakers. This society, as it objects to war, 
does not permit its members to share in such a manner in the 
profits of war. However, this person when he heard of the cap¬ 
ture insured his share of the prize. The vessel could not be 
brought into port, and he received of the underwriters eighteen 
hundred pounds. To have retained this money would have been 
equivalent to quitting the society; so he gave it to his friends to 
dispose of it as justice might appear to prescribe. The state of 
public affairs on the continent did not allow the trustees imme¬ 
diately to take any active measures to discover the owners of the 
captured vessel. The money therefore was allowed to accumulate. 
At the termination of the war with France the circumstances of 
the case were repeatedly published in the Dutch journals, and the 



134 CONFISCATIONS. Essay 2. 

full amount of every claim that has been clearly made out has 
been paid by the trustees. 

Confiscations. I do not know whether the history of Confis¬ 
cations affords any examples of persons who refused to accept the 
confiscated property. Yet, when it is considered under what cir¬ 
cumstances these seizures are frequently made—of revolution, and 
civil war, and the like, when the vindictive passions overpower 
the claims of justice and humanity, it cannot be doubted that the 
acceptance of confiscated property has sometimes been an act irre¬ 
concilable with integrity. Look for example at the confiscations 
of the French Revolution. The Government which at the mo¬ 
ment held the reins, doubtless sanctioned the appropriation of the 
property which they seized; and in so far the acceptance was le¬ 
gal. But that surely is not sufficient. Let an upright man sup¬ 
pose himself to he the neighbour of another who, with his family, 
enjoys the comforts of a paternal estate. In the distractions of 
political turbulence this neighbour is carried off and banished, and 
the estate is seized by order of the government. Would such a 
man accept this estate when the government offered it, without 
inquiry or consideration] Would he sit down in the warm com¬ 
forts of plenty, whilst his neighbour was wandering destitute per¬ 
haps in another land, and whilst his family were in sorrow and in 
want ] Would he not consider whether the confiscation was con¬ 
sistent with justice and rectitude, — and whether, if it were right 
with respect to the man, it was right with respect to his children 
and his wife, who perhaps did not participate in his offences ] It 
may serve to give clearness to our perceptions to consider, that if 
Louis XVII. had been restored to the throne soon after his father’s 
death, it is probable that many of the emigrants would have been 
reinstated in their possessions. Louis’s restoration might have 
been the result of some intrigue, or of a battle. Do, then, the 
obligations of mankind as to enjoying the property of another, 
depend on such circumstances as battles and intrigues | If the 
returning emigrant would have rightfully repossessed his estate if 
the battle was successful, can the present occupier righfully pos¬ 
sess it if the battle is not successful ] Is the result of a political 
manoeuvre a proper rule to guide a man’s conscience in retaining 
or giving up the houses and lands of his neighbours ] Politicians 
and those who profit by confiscations may be little influenced by 
considerations like these; but there are other men who, I think, 


Chap. 2 . 


PUBLIC MONEY. 


135 


will perceive that they are important, and who, though confiscated 
property may never he offered to them, will be able to apply the 
principles which these considerations illustrate, to their own con¬ 
duct in other affairs. 

It is worthy of observation, that in our own country, “ of all the 
persons who were enriched by the spoils of the religious houses, 
there was not one who suffered for his opinions during the perse¬ 
cution.” 1 How can this be accounted for, except upon the pre¬ 
sumption that those who were so willing to accept these spoils, 
were not remarkable for their fidelity to religion ] 

Public Money. Some writers on political affairs declaim 
much against sinecures and “ placesnot always remembering 
that these things may be only modes of paying, and of justly pay¬ 
ing, the servants of the public. It would no doubt be preferable 
that he who is rewarded for serving the public, should be rewarded 
avowedly as such, and not by the salar} r of a nominal office which 
is always filled whether the receiver deserves the money or not. 
Such a mode of remuneration would be more reasonable in itself, 
and more satisfactory to the people. However, if public men de¬ 
serve the money they receive, the name by which the salary is 
designated, is not of much concern. The great point is the desert. 
That this ought to be a great point with a government there can 
be no doubt, and it is indeed upon governments that writers are 
wont to urge the obligation. 

But our business is with the receivers. May a person, morally, 
appropriate to his own use any amount of money which a govern¬ 
ment chooses to give him 1 No. Then, when the public money is 
offered to any man, he is bound in conscience to consider whether 
he is in equity entitled to it or not. If, not being entitled, he 
accepts it, he is not an upright man. For who gives it to him 1 
The government: that is, the trustee for the public. A govern¬ 
ment is in a situation not dissimilar to that of a trustee for a mi¬ 
nor. It has no right to dispose of the public property according 
to its own will. Whatever it expends, except with a view to the 
public advantage, is to be regarded as so much fraud; and it is 
quite manifest that if the government has no right to give, the 
private person can have no right to receive. I know of no excep¬ 
tion to the application of these remarks, except where the public 
have expressly delivered up a certain amount of revenue to be 
applied according to the inclination of the governing power. 

1 Southey’s Book of the Church : vol. 2. 



136 


PUBLIC MONEY. 


Essay 2 . 


Now the equity of an individual’s claims upon the public pro¬ 
perty, must be founded upon his services to the public : not upon 
his services to a ihinister, not upon the partiality of a prince, but 
upon services actually performed or performing for the public. 1 
The degree in which familiarity with an ill custom diminishes our 
estimate of its viciousness is wonderful. If you propose to a man 
to come to some understanding with a guardian, by which he shall 
get a hundred pounds out of a ward’s estate, he starts from you 
with abhorrence. Yet that same man, if a minister should offer 
him ten times as much of the public property, puts it compla¬ 
cently and thankfully into his pocket. Is this consistency ? Is it 
uprightness ? 

In estimating the recompence to which public men are entitled, 
let the principles by all means be liberal. Let them be well paid : 
but let the money be paid, not given ; let it be the discharge of a 
debt, not the making of a present. And were I a servant of 
the public, I should not assume as of course, that whatever re¬ 
muneration the government was disposed to give, it would be 
right for me to receive. I should think myself obliged to consider 
for myself; and without affecting a trifling scrupulousness, I 
could not with integrity receive two thousand a year, if I knew 
that I was handsomely remunerated by one. These principles of 
conduct do not appear to lose their application in respect of fixed 
salaries or perquisites that are attached to offices. If a man can¬ 
not uprightly take two thousand pounds when he knows he is en¬ 
titled to but one, it cannot be made right by the circumstance that 
others have taken it before him, or that all take it who accept 
the office. The income may be exorbitantly disproportioned, not 
merely to the labour of the office, but to the total services of the 
individual. Nor, I think, do these principles lose their application, 
even when, as in this country, a sum is voted by the Legislature 
for the Civil List, and when it is out of this voted sum that the 
salaries are paid. You say—the represeijtatives of the people 
give the individual the money. Very well,—ryet even this may be 
true in theory rather than in fact. But who pretends that, when 
the votes for the Civil List are made in the House of Commons, 
its members actually consider whether the individuals to whom 
the money will be distributed are in equity entitled to it or not? 

1 It is not necessary that these services should have been personal. The widow or 
son of a man who had been inadequately remunerated during his life, may very pro¬ 
perly accept a competent pension from the state. 


Chap. 2 . 


INSURANCE. 


137 


—The question is very simple at last,—whether a person may 
virtuously accept the money of the public, without having rendered 
proportionate services to the public 1 There have been examples 
of persons who have voluntarily declined to receive the whole of 
the sums allotted to them by the government; and when these 
sums were manifestly disproportionate to the claims of the parties, 
or unreasonable when compared with the privations of the people, 
such sacrifices approve themselves to the feelings and consciences 
of the public. We feel that they are just and right; and this 
feeling outweighs in authority a hundred arguments by which men 
may attempt to defend themselves in the contrary practice. 

Those large salaries which are given by way of “ supporting 
the dignity of public functionaries,” are not I think reconcilable 
with propriety nor dictated by necessity. At any rate, there must 
be some sorrowful want of purity in political affairs, if an ambas¬ 
sador or a prime minister is indebted for any part of his efficiency 
to these dignities and splendours. If the necessity for them is not 
imaginary, it ought to be; and it may be doubted whether, even 
now, a minister of integrity who could not afford the customary 
splendours of his office, would not possess as much weight in his 
own country and amongst other nations, as if he were surrounded 
with magnificence. Who feels disrespect towards the great officers 
of the American government 1 And yet their salaries are incom¬ 
parably smaller than those of some of the inferior ministers in 
Europe. 

Insurance. It is very possible for a man to act dishonestly 
every day and yet never to defraud another of a shilling. A 
merchant who conducts his business partly or wholly with bor¬ 
rowed capital, is not honest if he endangers the loss of an amount 
of property which, if lost, would disable him from paying his 
debts. He who possesses a thousand pounds of his own and 
borrows a thousand of some one else, cannot virtuously speculate 
so extensively as that, if his prospects should be disappointed, he 
would lose twelve hundred. The speculation is dishonest whether 
it succeeds or not: it is risking other men’s property without their 
consent. Under similar circumstances it is unjust not to insure. 
Perhaps the majority of uninsured traders, if their houses and 
goods were burnt would be unable to pay their creditors. The 
injustice consists not in the actual loss which may be inflicted, 
(for whether a fire happens or not, the injustice is the same), but 


138 IMPROVEMENTS ON ESTATES. Essay 2. 

in endangering the infliction of the loss. There are but two ways 
in which, under such circumstances, the claims of rectitude can 
be satisfied—one is by not endangering the property, and the other 
by telling its actual owner that it will be endangered, and leaving 
him to incur the risk or not as he pleases. 

“ Those who hold the property of others are not warranted, on 
the principles of justice, in neglecting to inform themselves from 
time to time of the real situation of their affairs.” 1 This enforces 
the doctrines which we have delivered. It asserts that injustice 
attaches to not investigating ; and this injustice is often real whe¬ 
ther creditors are injured or not. 

During the seventeenth century, when religious persecution was 
very active, some beautiful examples of integrity were offered by 
its victims. It was common for officers to seize the property of 
conscientious and good men, and sometimes to plunder them with 
such relentless barbarity as scarcely to leave them the common 
utensils of a kitchen. These persons sometimes had the property 
of others on their premises ; and when they heard that the officers 
were likely to make a seizure, industriously removed from their 
premises all property but their own. At one period, a number of 
traders in the country who had made purchases in the London 
markets, found that their plunderers were likely to disable them 
from paying for their purchases, and they requested the merchants 
to take back, and the merchants did take back, their goods. 

In passing, I would remark, that the readers of mere general 
history only, are very imperfectly acquainted with the extent to 
which persecution on account of religion has been practised in 
these kingdoms, ages since protestantism became the religion of 
the state. A competent acquaintance with this species of history, 
is of incomparably greater value than much of the matter with 
which historians are wont to fill their pages. 

Improvements on Estates. There are some circumstances 
in which the occupier of lands or houses, who has increased their 
value by erections or other improvements, cannot in justice be 
compelled to pay for the increased value if he purchases the pro¬ 
perty. A man purchases the lease of an estate, and has reason 
to expect from the youth and health of the “ lives,” that he may 
retain possession of it for thirty or forty years. In consequence 
of this expectation, he makes many additions to the buildings ; 

1 Official Documents of the Yearly Meeting of the Society of Friends: 1826. 




Chap. 2. 


SETTLEMENTS. 


139 


and by other modes of improvement considerably increases the 
value of the estate. It however happens that in the course of 
two or three years all the lives drop. The landowner when the 
person applies to him for a new lease, demands payment for all 
the improvements. This I say is not just. It will be replied, 
that all parties knew and voluntarily undertook the risk : so they 
did, and if the event had approached to the ordinary average of 
such risks, the owner would act rightly in demanding the increased 
value. But it does not; and this is the circumstance which would 
make an upright man decline to avail himself of his advantages. 
Yet, if any one critically disputes the “ justice” of the demand, I 
give up the word, and say that it is not considerate, and kind, and 
benevolent;—in a word, it is not Christian. It is no light calamity 
upon such a tenant to be obliged so unexpectedly to repurchase a 
lease; and to add to this calamity a demand which the common 
feelings of mankind would condemn, cannot be the act of a good 
man. Who doubts whether, within the last fourteen years it has 
not been the duty of many landowners to return a portion of their 
rents 1 The duty is the same in one case as in the other; and it 
is founded on the same principles in both. To say that other per¬ 
sons would be willing to pay the present value of the property, 
would not affect the question of morality : because, to sell it to 
another for that value when the former tenant was desirous of re¬ 
purchasing, would not diminish the unkindness to him. 

Settlements. It is not an unfrequent occurrence, when a 
merchant or other person becomes insolvent, that the creditors 
unexpectedly find the estate is chargeable with a large settlement 
on the wife. There is a consideration connected with this which 
in a greater degree involves integrity of character than perhaps 
is often supposed. Men in business obtain credit from others in 
consequence of the opinions which others form of their character 
and property. The latter, if it be not the greater foundation of 
credit, is a great one. A person lives then at the rate of a thou¬ 
sand a year: he maintains a respectable establishment, and dif¬ 
fuses over all its parts indications of property. These appearances 
are relied upon by other men : they think they may safely entrust 
him, and they do entrust him, with goods or money; until, when 
his insolvency is suddenly announced, they are surprised and 
alarmed to find that five hundred a year is settled on his wife. 
Now this person has induced others to confide their property to 


140 


HOUSES OF INFAMY. 


Essay 2. 

him by holding out fallacious appearances. He has in reality de¬ 
ceived them; and the deception is as real, though it may not be as 
palpable, as if he had deluded them with verbal falsehoods. He 
has been acting a continued untruth. Perhaps such a man will 
say that he never denied that the greater part of his apparent 
property was settled on his wife. This may be true ; but, when 
his neighbour came to him to lodge five or six hundred pounds in 
his hands; when he was conscious that this neighbour’s confidence 
was founded upon the belief that his apparent property was really 
his own; when there was reason to apprehend, that if his neigh¬ 
bour had known his actual circumstances he would have hesitated 
in entrusting him with the money, then he does really and practi¬ 
cally deceive his neighbour, and it is not a sufficient justification 
to say that he has uttered no untruth. The reader will observe 
that the case is very different from that of a person who conducts 
his business with borrowed money. This person must annually 
pay the income of the money to the lender. He does not expend 
it on his own establishment, and consequently does not hold out 
the same fallacious appearances. Some profligate spendthrifts 
take a house, buy elegant furniture, and keep a handsome equi¬ 
page, in order by these appearances to deceive and defraud traders. 
No man doubts whether these persons act criminally. How then 
can he be innocent who knowingly practises a deception similar 
in kind though varjing in degree ? 

Houses of Infamy. If it were not that a want of virtue is 
so common amongst men, we should wonder at the coolness with 
which some persons of decent reputation are content to let their 
houses to persons of abandoned character, and to put periodically 
into their pockets, the profits of infamy. Sophisms may easily be 
invented to palliate the conduct, but nothing can make it right. 
Such a landlord knows perfectly to what purposes his house will 
be devoted, and knows that he shall receive the wages, not per¬ 
haps of his own iniquity, but still the wages of iniquity. He is 
almost a partaker with them in their sins. If I were to sell a man 
arsenic or a pistol, knowing that the buyer wanted it to commit 
murder, should I not be a bad man ? If I let a man a house know¬ 
ing that the renter wants it for purposes of wickedness, am I an 
innocent man 1 —Not that it is to be affirmed that no one may re¬ 
ceive ill-gotten money. A grocer may sell a pound of sugar to a 
woman though he knows she is upon the town. But, if we cannot 


VICIOUS LITERARY PROPERTY. 


141 


Chap. 2. 


specify the point at which a lawful degree of participation termi¬ 
nates, we can determine, respecting some degrees of participation, 
that they are unlawful. To the majority of such offenders against 
the Moral Law, these arguments may he urged in vain;—there 
are some of whom we may indulge greater hope. Respectable 
public brewers are in the habit of purchasing beer houses in order 
that they may supply the publicans with their porter. Some of 
these houses are notoriously the resort of the most abandoned of 
mankind; the daily scenes of riot, and drunkenness, and of the 
most filthy debauchery. Yet these houses are purchased by brew¬ 
ers,—perhaps there is a competition amongst them for the pre¬ 
mises ;—they put in a tenant of their own, supply him with beer, 
and regularly receive the profits of this excess of wickedness. Is 
there no such obligation as that of abstaining even from the ap¬ 
pearance of evil 1 Is there no such thing as guilt without a per¬ 
sonal participation in it ? All pleas such as that, if one man did 
not supply such a house another would, are vain subterfuges. Upon 
such reasoning, you might rob a traveller on the road, if you knew 
that at the next turning a footpad was waiting to plunder him if 
you did not. Selling such houses to be occupied as before, would 
be like selling slaves because you thought it criminal to keep them 
in bondage. The obligation to discountenance wickedness rests 
upon him who possesses the power. “To him who knoweth to 
do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin.” To retain our virtue 
may in such cases cost us something, but he who values virtue at 
its worth, will not think that he retains it at a dear rate. 

Literary Property. Upon similar grounds there are some 
of the profits of the press which a good man cannot accept. There 
are some periodical works and some newspapers from which, if he 
were offered an annual income, he would feel himself bound to re¬ 
ject it. Suppose there is a newspaper which is lucrative because 
it gratifies a vicious taste for slander or indecency,—or suppose 
there is a magazine of which the profits result from the attraction 
of irreligious or licentious articles,—I would not put into my 
pocket, every quarter of a year, the money which was gained by 
vitiating mankind. In all such cases, there is one sort of obliga¬ 
tion which applies with great force,—the obligation not to dis¬ 
courage rectitude by our example. Upon this ground, a man of 
virtue would hesitate even to contribute an article to such a 
publication, lest they who knew he was a contributor, should think 
they had his example to justify improprieties of their own. 




142 REWARDS. Essay 2 . 

Rewards. A person loses his pocket-book containing fifty 
pounds, and offers ten pounds to the finder if he will restore it. 
The finder ought not to demand the reward. It implies surely 
some imputation upon a man’s integrity, when he accepts payment 
for being honest. For, for what else is he paid? If he retains the 
property he is manifestly fraudulent. To be paid for giving it up, 
is to be paid for not committing fraud. The loser offers the reward 
in order to overpower the temptation to dishonesty. To accept 
the reward is therefore tacitly to acknowledge that you would have 
been dishonest if it had not been offered. This certainly is not 
maintaining an integrity that is “ above suspicion.” It will be 
said that the reward is offered voluntarily. This, in proper lan¬ 
guage, is not true. Two evils are presented to the loser, of which 
he is compelled to choose one. If men were honest, he would not 
offer the reward: he would make it known that he had lost his 
pocket-book, and the finder, if a finder there were, would restore 
it. The offered ten pounds is a tax which is imposed upon him 
by the want of uprightness in mankind, and he who demands the 
money actively promotes the imposition. The very word reward 
carries with it its own reprobation. As a reward, the man of in¬ 
tegrity would receive nothing. If the loser requested it, he might 
if he needed it accept a donation; but he would let it be under¬ 
stood that he accepted a present not that he received a debt. 


Perhaps examples enough, or more than enough, have been 
accumulated to illustrate this class of obligations. Many appeared 
needful, because it is a class which is deplorably neglected in 
practice. So strong is the temptation to think that we may right¬ 
fully possess whatever the law assigns to us,—so insinuating is 
the notion, upon subjects of property, that whatever the law T does 
not punish we may rightfully do, that there is little danger of sup¬ 
plying too many motives to habitual discrimination of our duties 
and to habitual purity of conduct. Let the reader especially re¬ 
member, that the examples which are offered are not all of them 
selected on account of their individual importance, but rather as 
illustrations of the general principle. A man may meet with a 
hundred circumstances in life to which none of these examples are 
relevant, but I think he will not have much difficulty in estimating 
the principles which they illustrate. And this induces the obser- 




Chap. 2 . 


OBJECT OF THESE EXAMPLES. 


143 


vation, that although several of these examples are taken from 
British law or British customs, they do not, on that account, lose 
their applicability where these laws and customs do not obtain. 
If this book should ever be read in a foreign land, or if it should 
be read in this land when public institutions or the tenor of men’s 
conduct shall be changed, the principles of its morality will, ne¬ 
vertheless, be applicable to the affairs of life. 



CHAPTER III. 


INEQUALITY OF PROPERTY. 

That many and great evils result from that inequality of pro¬ 
perty which exists in civilized countries, is indicated by the many 
propositions which have been made to diminish or destroy it. We 
want not indeed such evidence; for it is sufficiently manifest to 
every man who will look round upon his neighbours. We join 
not with those who declaim against all inequality of property: the 
real evil is not that it is unequal, but that it is greatly unequal ; 
not that one man is richer than another, but that one man is so 
rich as to be luxurious, or imperious, or profligate, and that ano¬ 
ther is so poor as to be abject and depraved, as well as to be des¬ 
titute of the proper comforts of life. 

There are two means by which the pernicious inequality of 
property may be diminished; by political institutions, and by the 
exertions of private men. Our present business is with the 
latter. 

To a person who possesses and expends more than he needs, 
there are two reasonable inducements to diminish its amount,— 
first, to benefit others, and next, to benefit his family and himself. 
The claims of benevolence towards others are often and earnestly- 
urged upon the public, and for that reason they will not be repeated 
here. Not that there is no occasion to repeat the lesson, for it is 
very inadequately learnt; but that it is of more consequence to 
exhibit obligations which are less frequently enforced. To insist 
upon diminishing the amount of a man’s property for the sake of 
his family and himself may present to some men new ideas, and 
to some men the doctrine may be paradoxical. 

Large possessions are in a great majority of instances injurious 
to the possessor,—that is to say, those who hold them are gene¬ 
rally less excellent both as citizens and as men than those who do 
not. The truth appears to be established by the concurrent judg- 



Chap. 3. ACCUMULATION OF WEALTH. 145 

ment of mankind. Lord Bacon says,—“ Certainly great riches 
have sold more men than they have bought out. As baggage is 
to an army, so are riches to virtue.—It hindereth the march, yea 
and the care of it sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory.”— 

“ It is to be feared that the general tendency of rank, and especi¬ 
ally of riches, is to withdraw the heart from spiritual exercises.” 1 
“ A much looser system of morals commonly prevails in the higher 
than in the middling and lower orders of society.” 2 “ The middle 
rank contains most virtue and abilities.” 3 

“ W ealth heaped on wealth nor truth nor safety buys, 

The dangers gather as the treasures rise.” 4 

“ There is no greater calamity than that of leaving children an 
affluent independence.—The worst examples in the Society of 
Friends are generally amongst the children of the rich.” 5 

It was an observation of Voltaire’s, that the English people 
were, like their butts of beer, froth at top, dregs at bottom,—in 
the middle, excellent. The most rational, the wisest, the best por¬ 
tion of mankind, belong to that class who possess “ neither poverty 
nor riches.” Let the reader look around him. Let him observe 
who are the persons that contribute most to the moral and physical 
amelioration of mankind; who they are that practically and per¬ 
sonally support our unnumbered institutions of benevolence; who 
they are that exhibit the worthiest examples of intellectual exer¬ 
tion ; who they are to whom he would himself apply if he needed 
to avail himself of a manly and discriminating judgment. That 
they are the poor is not to be expected: we appeal to himself 
whether they are the rich. Who then would make his son a rich 
man 1 Who would remove his child out of that station in society 
which is thus peculiarly favourable to intellectual and moral ex¬ 
cellence 1 

If a man knows that wealth will in all probability be injurious 
to himself and to his children, injurious too in the most important 
points, the religious and moral character, it is manifestly a point 
of the soundest wisdom and the truest kindness to decline to ac¬ 
cumulate it. Upon this subject, it is admirable to observe with 
what exactness the precepts of Christianity are adapted to that 

1 More’s Moral Sketches, 3rd Edit. p. 446. 2 Wilberforce : Pract. View. 

3 Wollestonecroft: Rights of Women, c. 4. 4 Johnson: Vanity of Human 

Wishes. 5 Clarkson: Portraiture. 




146 


PROPER LIMITS OF ACCUMULATION. Essay 2. 


conduct which the experience of life recommends. “ The care of 
this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word:”— 
“ choked with cares, and riches, and pleasures of this life, and 
bring no fruit to perfection —“ How hardly shall they that have 
riches enter into the kingdom of God!” they that will be rich fall 
into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful 
lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition.” Not that 
riches necessarily lead to these consequences, but that such is their 
tendency; a tendency so uniform and powerful that it is to be 
feared these are their very frequent results. Now this language 
of the Christian Scriptures does not contain merely statements of 
fact,—it imposes duties; and whatever may be the precise mode 
of regarding those duties, one point is perfectly clear;—that he 
who sets no other limit to his possessions or accumulations than 
inability or indisposition to obtain more, does not conform to the 
will of God. Assuredly, if any specified thing is declared by 
Christianity to be highly likely to obstruct our advancement in 
goodness, and to endanger our final felicity, against that thing, 
whatever it be, it is imperative upon us to guard with wakeful 
solicitude. 

And therefore, without affirming that no circumstance can justify 
a great accumulation of property, it may safely be concluded, that 
far the greater number of those who do accumulate it, do wrong: 
nor do I see any reason to be deterred from ranking the distribu¬ 
tion of a portion of great wealth, or a refusal to accumulate it, 
amongst the imperative duties which are imposed by the Moral 
Law. In truth, a man ma}~ almost discover whether such conduct 
is obligatory, by referring to the motives which induce him to 
acquire great property or to retain it. The motives are generally 
impure; the desire of splendour, or the ambition of eminence, or 
the love of personal indulgence. Are these motives fit to be 
brought into competition with the probable welfare, the virtue, the 
usefulness, and the happiness of his family and himself] Yet such 
is the competition, and to such unworthy objects, duty, and reason, 
and affection are sacrificed. 

It will be said, a man should provide for his family, and make 
them, if he can, independent. That he should provide for his 
family is true; that he should make them independent, at any rate 
that he should give them an affluent independence, forms no part 
of his duty, and is frequently a violation of it. As it respects 



Chap. 3. EQUALITY OF PROVISION FOR CHILDREN. 147 

almost all men, he will best approve himself a wise and kind pa¬ 
rent, who leaves to his sons so much only as may enable them, by 
moderate engagements, to enjoy the conveniences and comforts of 
life; and to his daughters a sufficiency to possess similar comforts, 
but not a sufficiency to shine amongst the great, or to mingle with 
the votaries of expensive dissipation. If any father prefers other 
objects to the welfare and happiness of his children,—if wisdom 
and kindness towards them are with him subordinate considera¬ 
tions, it is not probable that he will listen to reasonings like these. 
But where is the parent who dares to acknowledge this preference 
to his own mind 1 

It were idle to affect to specify any amount of property which 
a person ought not to exceed. The circumstances of one man may 
make it reasonable that he should acquire or retain much more 
than another who has few*er claims. Y^et somewhat of a general 
rule may be suggested. He who is accumulating should consider 
why he desires more. If it really is, that he believes an addition 
will increase the welfare and usefulness and virtue of his family, 
it is probable that further accumulation may be right. If no such 
belief is sincerely entertained, it is more than probable that it is 
wrong. He who already possesses affluence should consider its 
actual existing effects.—If he employs a competent portion of it 
in increasing the happiness of others, if it does not produce any 
injurious effect upon his own mind, if it does not diminish or 
impair the virtues of his children, if they are grateful for their 
privileges rather than vain of their superiority, if they second his 
own endeavours to diffuse happiness around them, he may remain 
as he is. If such effects are not produced, but instead of them 
others of an opposite tendency, he certainly has too much.—Upon 
this serious subject let the Christian parent be serious. If, as is 
proved by the experience of every day, great property usually 
inflicts great injuries upon those who possess it, what motive can 
induce a good man to lay it up for his children 1 What motive 
will be his justification, if it tempts them from virtue ] 

When children are similarly situated with respect to their pro¬ 
bable wants, there seems no reason for preferring the elder to the 
younger, or sons to daughters. Since the proper object of a pa¬ 
rent in making a division of his property, is the comfort and wel¬ 
fare of his children,—if this object is likely to be better secured 
by an equal than by any other division, an equal division ought 



148 


“ KEEPING UP THE FAMILY.” 


Essay 2 . 


to be made. It is a common, though not a very reasonable opinion, 
that a son needs a larger portion than a daughter. To be sure, if 
he is to live in greater affluence than she, he does. But why 
should he? There appears no motive in reason, and certainly 
there is none in affection, for diminishing one child’s comforts to 
increase another’s. A son too has greater opportunities of gain. 
A woman almost never grows rich except by legacies or marriage ; 
so that, if her father do not provide for her, it is probable that she 
will not be provided for at all. As to marriage, the opportunity is 
frequently not offered to a woman; and a father, if he can, should 
so provide for his daughter as to enable her, in single life, to live 
in a state of comfort not greatly inferior to her brother’s. The 
remark that the custom of preferring sons is general , and therefore 
that when a couple marry the inequality is adjusted, applies only 
to the case of those who do marry. The number of women who 
do not is great; and a parent cannot foresee his daughter’s lot. 
Besides, since marriage is, (and is reasonably,) a great object to a 
woman, and is desirable both for women and for men, there appears 
a propriety in increasing the probability of marriage by giving to 
women such property as shall constitute an additional inducement 
to marriage in the men. I shall hardly be suspected of recom¬ 
mending persons to “ marry for money.” My meaning is this : A 
young man possesses five hundred a year, and lives on a corre¬ 
sponding scale. He is attached to a woman who has but one 
hundred a year. This young man sees that if he marries, he must 
reduce his scale of living; and the consideration operates, (I do not 
say that it ought to operate,) to deter him from marriage. But if 
the young man possessed three hundred a year and lived accord¬ 
ingly, and if the object of his attachment possessed three hundred 
a year also, he would not be prevented from marrying her by the 
fear of being obliged to diminish his system of expenditure. Just 
complaints are made of those half-concealed blandishments by 
wdiich some women who need “a settlement” endeavour to pro¬ 
cure it by marriage. Those blandishments, would become more 
tempered with propriety, if one great motive was taken away by 
the possession of a competence of their own. 

An equal division of a father’s property will be said to be 
incompatible with the system of primogeniture, and almost incom¬ 
patible with hereditary rank. These are not subjects for the 
present Essay. Whatever the reader may think of the practical 




“KEEPING UP THE FAMILY.” 


149 


Chap. 3. 


value of these institutions, it is manifest that far the greater 
number of those who have property to bequeath, need not concern 
themselves with either: they may, in their own practice, contri¬ 
bute to diminish the general and the particular evils of unequal 
property. With respect to their own families, the result can 
hardly fail to be good. It is probable that as men advance in 
intellectual, and especially in moral excellence, the desire of 
“keeping up the family” will become less and less an object of 
solicitude. That desire is not, in its ordinary character, recom¬ 
mended by any considerations which are obviously deducible from 
virtue or from reason. It is an affair of vanity; and vanity like 
other weaknesses and evils may be expected to diminish as sound 
habits of judgment prevail in the world. 

Perhaps it is remarkable, that the obligation not to accumulate 
great property for ourselves or our children, is so little enforced by 
the writers on morality. None will dispute that such accumulation 
is both unwise and unkind. Every one acknowledges too that the 
general evils of the existing inequality of property are enormously 
great: yet how few insist upon those means by which, more than 
by any other private means, these evils may be diminished! If 
all men declined to retain, or refrained from acquiring, more than 
is likely to be beneficial to their families and themselves, the per¬ 
nicious inequality of property would quickly be diminished or 
destroyed. There is a motive upon the individual to do this, 
which some public reformations do not offer. He who contributes 
almost nothing to diminish the general mischiefs of extreme poverty 
and extreme wealth, may yet do so much benefit to his own con¬ 
nections as shall greatly overpay him for the sacrifice of vanity or 
inclination. Perhaps it may be said that there is a claim too of 
justice. The wealth of a nation is a sort of common stock, of 
which the accumulations of one man are usually made at the 
expense of others. A man who has acquired a reasonable suffi¬ 
ciency, and who nevertheless retains his business to acquire more 
than a sufficiency, practises a sort of injustice towards another who 
needs his means of gain. There are always many who cannot en¬ 
joy the comforts of life, because others are improperly occupying 
the means by which those comforts are to be obtained. Is it the 
part of a Christian to do this 1—even abating the consideration 
that he is injuring himself by withholding comforts from another. 




CHAPTER IV. 


LITIGATION.-ARBITRATION. 

In the third Essay, 1 some inquiry will be attempted, as to 
whether Justice may not often be administered between contend¬ 
ing parties, or to public offenders, by some species of arbitration 
rather than by law ;—whether a gradual substitution of Equity for 
fixed rules of decision, is not congruous alike with philosophy and 
morals.-—The present chapter however, and that which succeeds 
it, proceed upon the supposition that the administration of Justice 
continues in its present state. 

The question for an individual, when he has some cause of dis¬ 
pute with another respecting property or rights is, By what means 
ought I to endeavour to adjust it? Three modes of adjustment 
may be supposed to be offered: Private arrangement with the 
other party,—Reference to impartial men,—and Law. Private 
adjustment is the best mode; arbitration is good; law is good only 
when it is the sole alternative. 

The litigiousness of some of the early Christians at Corinth 
gave occasion to the energetic expostulation, “ Dare any of you, 
having a matter against another, go to law before the unjust and 
not before the saints ? Do ye not know that the saints shall judge 
the world? And if the world shall be judged by you, are ye un¬ 
worthy to judge the smallest matters ? Know ye not that we shall 
judge angels ? How much more things that pertain to this life ? If 
then, ye have judgments of things pertaining to this life, set them 
to judge who are least esteemed in the church. I speak to your 
shame. Is it so that there is not a wise man among you? No, not 
one that shall be able to judge between his brethren? But brother 
goeth to law with brother, and that before the unbelievers. Now 
therefore there is utterly a fault among you, because ye go to law 
one with another. Why do ye not rather take wrong ? Why do 

1 Chap. 





Chap. 4. PRACTICE OF EARLY CHRISTIANS. 


151 


ye not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded V’ 1 Upon this, one 
observation is especially to be remembered: that a great part of 
its pointedness of reprehension is directed, not so much to litiga¬ 
tion, as to litigation before pagans. “ Brother goeth to law with 
brother, and that before the unbelievers.” The impropriety of 
exposing the disagreements of Christians in pagan courts, was ma¬ 
nifest and great. They who had rejected the dominant religion, 
for a religion of which one peculiar characteristic was good will 
and unanimity, were especially called upon to exhibit in their con¬ 
duct an illustration of its purer principles. Few things, not grossly 
vicious, would bring upon Christians and upon Christianity itself 
so much reproach as a litigiousness which could not or would not 
find arbitration amongst themselves. The advice of the apostle 
appears to have been acted upon : “ The primitive church, which 
was always zealous to reconcile the brethren and to procure pardon 
for the offender from the person offended, did ordain, according to 
the Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians, that the saints or 
Christians should not maintain a process of law one against the 
other at the bar or tribunals of infidels.” 2 The Christian of the 
present day is differently circumstanced, because, though he ap¬ 
peals to the law, he does not appeal to pagan judges; and there¬ 
fore so much of the apostle’s censure as was occasioned by the 
paganism of the courts, does not apply to us. 

To this indeed there is an exception founded upon analogy. If 
at the commencement of the Reformation, two of the reformers had 
carried a dispute respecting property before Romish courts, they 
would have come under some portion of that reprobation which 
was addressed to the Corinthians. Certainly, when persons pro¬ 
fess such a love for religious purity and excellence that they pub¬ 
licly withdraw from the general religion of a people, there ought 
to be so much purity and excellence amongst them, that it would 
be needless to have recourse to those from whom they had sepa¬ 
rated, to adjust their disputes. The catholic of those days might 
reasonably have turned upon such reformers and said, “Is it so 
that there is not a wise man among you, no not one that shall be 
able to judge between his brethren!” And if indeed, no such 
wise man was to be found, it might safely be concluded that their 
reformation was an empty name.—For the same reasons, those 
who, in the present times, think it right to withdraw from other 

1 1 Cor. vi. 2 Rycaut’s Lives of the Popes, fol. 2d, ed. 1688, Introd. p. 2. 



152 


PRACTICE OF THE EARLY CHRISTIANS. Essay % 

protestant churches in order to maintain sounder doctrines or purer 
practice, cast reproach upon their own community if they cannot 
settle their disputes amongst themselves. Pretensions to sound¬ 
ness and purity are of little avail if they do not enable those who 
make them to repose in one another such confidence as this. 
Were I a Wesleyan or a Baptist, I should think it discreditable 
to go to law with one of my own brotherhood. 

But, though the apostle’s prohibition of going to law appears to 
have been founded upon the paganism of the courts, his language 
evidently conveys disapprobation, generally, of appeals to the law. 
He insists upon the propriety of adjusting disputes by arbitration. 
Christians, he says, ought not to be unworthy to judge the smallest 
matters; and so emphatically does he insist upon the truth, that 
their religion ought to capacitate them to act as arbitrators, that he 
intimates that even a small advance in Christian excellence is suf¬ 
ficient for such a purpose as this : —“ Set them to judge who are 
least esteemed in the church.” It will perhaps be acknowledged 
that when Christianity shall possess its proper influence over us, 
there will be little reason to recur, for adjustment of our disagree¬ 
ments, to fixed rules of law. And though this influence is so far 
short of universal prevalence, who cannot find amongst those to 
whom he may have access, some who are capable of deciding 
rightly and justly? The state of that Christian country must 
indeed be bad, if it contains not, even in every little district, one 
that is able to judge between his brethren. 

Nevertheless, there are cases in which the Christian may pro¬ 
perly appeal to the law. He may have an antagonist who can in 
no other manner be induced to be just or to act aright. Under 
some such circumstances Paul himself pursued a similar course : 
“I appeal unto Caesar.”—“Is it lawful for you to scourge a man 
that is a Roman, and uncondemned?” And when he had been 
illegally taken into custody he availed himself of his legal privi¬ 
leges, and made the magistrates “ come themselves and fetch him 
out.” There are, besides, in the present condition of jurispru¬ 
dence, some cases in which the rule of justice depends upon the 
rule of law,—so that a thing is just or not just according as the 
law determines. In such cases neither party, however well dis¬ 
posed, may be able distinctly to tell what justice requires until the 
law informs them. Even then, however, there are better means of 
procedure than by prosecuting suits. The parties may obtain 
“ Opinions.” 



Chap. 4, 


EFFICIENCY OF ARBITRATION. 


153 


Beside these considerations there are others which powerfully 
recommend arbitration in preference to law. The evils of litiga¬ 
tion, from which arbitration is in a great degree exempt, are great. 

Expense is an important item. A reasonable man desires of 
course to obtain justice as inexpensively as he can; and the great 
cost of obtaining it in courts of law, is a powerful reason for pre¬ 
ferring arbitration. 

Legal Injustice. He who desires that justice should be dis¬ 
pensed between him and another, should sufficiently bear in mind 
how much injustice is inflicted by the law. We have seen in 
some of the preceding chapters that law is often very wide of 
equity; and he who desires to secure himself from an inequitable 
decision, possesses a powerful motive to prefer arbitration. The 
technicalities of the law and the artifices of lawyers are almost 
innumerable. Sometimes, when a party thinks he is on the eve 
of obtaining a just verdict, he is suddenly disappointed and his 
cause is lost by some technical defect,—the omission of a word or 
the mis-spelling of a name; matters which in no degree affect the 
validity of his claims. If the only advantage which arbitration 
offers to disagreeing parties, was exemption from these deplorable 
evils, it would be a substantial and sufficient argument in its 
favour. There is no reason to doubt, that justice would generally 
be administered by a reference to two or three upright and disin¬ 
terested men. When facts are laid before such persons, they are 
seldom at a loss to decide what justice requires. Its principles 
are not so critical or remote as usually to require much labour of 
research to discover what they dictate. It might be concluded 
therefore, even if experience did not confirm it, that an arbitration, 
if it did not decide absolutely aright, would at least come to as just 
a decision as can be attained by human means. But experience 
does confirm the conclusion. It is known that the Society of 
Friends never permits its members to carry disagreements with 
one another before courts of law. All, if they continue in the 
society, must submit to arbitration. And what is the consequence 1 
They find, practically, that arbitration is the best mode; that jus¬ 
tice is in fact administered by it, administered more satisfactorily 
and with fewer exceptions than in legal courts. No one pretends 
to dispute this. Indeed if it were disputable, it may be presumed 
that this community would abandon the practice. They adhere to 
it because it is the most Christian practice and the best. 



154 


EFFICIENCY OF ARBITRATION. 


Essay 2 . 


Inquietude. The expense, the injustice, the delays and vexations 
which are attendant upon law suits, bring altogether a degree of 
inquietude upon the mind which greatly deducts from the enjoy¬ 
ment of life, and from the capacity to attend with composure to 
other and perhaps more important concerns. If to this we add the 
heart-burnings and ill-will which suits frequently occasion, a con¬ 
siderable sum of evil is in this respect presented to us: a sum of 
evil, be it remembered, from which arbitration is in a great degree 
exempt. 

Upon the whole, arbitration is recommended by such various 
and powerful arguments, that when it is proposed by one of two 
contending parties and objected to by the other, there is reason to 
presume that, with that other, justice is not the paramount object 
of desire. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE MORALITY OF LEGAL PRACTICE. 

If it should be asked why, in a hook of general morality, the 
writer selects for observation the practice of a particular profes¬ 
sion, the answer is simply this, that the practice of this particular 
profession peculiarly needs it. It peculiarly needs to be brought 
into juxtaposition with sound principles of morality. Besides this, 
an honest comparison of the practice with the principles will afford 
useful illustration of the requisitions of virtue. 

That public opinion pronounces that there is, in the ordinary 
character of legal practice, much that is not reconcilable with rec¬ 
titude, can need no proof. The public opinion could scarcely 
become general unless it were founded upon truth, and that it is 
general is evinced by the language of all ranks of men; from 
that of him who writes a treatise of morality, to that of him who 
familiarly uses a censorious proverb. It may reasonably be con¬ 
cluded that when the professional conduct of a particular set of 
men is characterized peculiarly with sacrifices of rectitude, there 
must be some general and peculiar cause. There appears nothing 
in the profession, as such, to produce this effect,—nothing in taking 
a part in the administration of justice which necessarily leads men 
away from the regard to justice. How then are we to account for 
the fact as it exists, or where shall we primarily lay the censure 1 
Is it the fault of the men or of the institutions ; of the lawyers or 
of the law 1 Doubtless the original fault is in the law. 

This fault, as it respects our own country, and I suppose every 
other, is of two kinds; one is necessary, and one accidental. 
First: Wherever fixed rules of deciding controversies between 
man and man, or fixed rales of administering punishment to 
public offenders are established,—there it is inevitable that equity 
will sometimes be sacrificed to rules. These rules are laws, that 
is,they must be uniformly, and for the most part literally, applied; 



156 


MORALITY APPLICABLE 


Essay 2. 


and this literal application, (as we have already had manifold 
occasion to show,) is sometimes productive of practical injustice. 
Since then the legal profession employ themselves in enforcing this 
literal application,—since they habitually exert themselves to do 
this with little regard to the equity of the result, they cannot fail 
to deserve and to obtain the character of a profession that sacri¬ 
fices rectitude. I know not that this is evitable so long as nume¬ 
rous and fixed rules are adopted in the administration of justice. 

The second cause of the evil, as it results from the law itself, is 
in its extreme complication,—in the needless multiplicity of its 
forms, in the inextricable intricacy of its whole structure. This, 
which is probably by far the most efficient cause of the want of 
morality in legal practice, I call gratuitous. It is not necessary to 
law that it should be so extremely complicated. This, the public 
are beginning more and more to see and to assert. Simplification 
has indeed been in some small degree effected by recent acts of 
the legislature ; and this is a sufficient evidence that it was needed. 
But whether needed or not, the temptation which it casts in the 
way of professional virtue is excessively great. A man takes a 
cause—a morally bad cause we will suppose—to a barrister. The 
barrister searches his memory or his books for some one or more 
amongst the multiplicity of legal technicalities by which success 
may be obtained for his client. He finds them, urges them in 
court, shows that the opposing client cannot legally substantiate 
his claim, and thus inflicts upon him practical injustice. This is 
primarily the fault of the law. Take away or diminish this en¬ 
cumbering load of technicalities, and you take away, in the same 
proportion, the opportunity for the profession to sacrifice equity to 
forms, and by consequence diminish the immorality of its practice. 
There can be no efficient reform amongst lawyers without a reform 
of the law. 

But whilst thus the original cause of the sacrifice of virtue 
amongst legal men is to be sought in legal institutions, it cannot 
be doubted that they are themselves chargeable with greatly 
adding to the evils which these institutions occasion. This is just 
what, in the present state of human virtue, we might expect. Law¬ 
yers familiarize to their minds the notion, that whatever is legally 
right is right ; and when they have once habituated themselves to 
sacrifice the manifest dictates of equity to law, where shall they 
stop] If a material informality in an instrument is to them a 


Chap. 5 . 


TO LEGAL PRACTICE. 


157 


sufficient justification of a sacrifice of these dictates, they will soon 
sacrifice them because a word has been mis-spelt by an attorney’s 
clerk. When they have gone thus far, they will go further. The 
practice of disregarding rectitude in courts of justice will become 
habitual. They will go onward, from insisting upon legal techni¬ 
calities to an endeavour to pervert the law, then to the giving a 
false colouring to facts, and then onward and still onward until 
witnesses are abashed and confounded, until juries are misled by 
impassioned appeals to their feelings, until deliberate untruths are 
solemnly averred, until, in a word, all the pitiable and degrading 
spectacles are exhibited which are now exhibited in legal practice. 

But when we say that the original cause of this unhappy system 
is to be found in the law itself, is it tantamount to a justification of 
the system] No : if it were, it would be sufficient to justify any 
departure from rectitude; it would be sufficient to justify any 
crime, to be able to show that the perpetrator possessed strong 
temptation. Strong temptation is undoubtedly placed before the 
legal practitioner. This should abate our censure, but it should 
not cause us to be silent. 

We affirm that a lawyer cannot morally enforce the application 
of legal rules, without regard to the claims of equity in the parti¬ 
cular case. 

If it has been seen, in the preceding chapters, that morality is 
paramount to law; if it has been seen that there are many in¬ 
stances in which private persons are morally obliged to forego 
their legal pretensions, then it is equally clear that a lawyer is 
obliged to hold morality as paramount to law in his own practice. 
If one man may not urge an unjust legal pretension, another may 
not assist him in urging it. No man it may be hoped will say 
that it is the lawyer’s only business to apply the law. Men can¬ 
not so cheaply exempt themselves from the obligations of morality. 
Yet here the question is really suspended; for if the business of 
the profession does not justify a disregard of morality, it is not 
capable of justification. Suspended! It is lamentable that such a 
question can exist. For to what does the alternative lead us 1 Is 
a man, when he undertakes a client’s business, at liberty to ad¬ 
vance his interests by every method, good or bad, which the law 
will not punish ] If he is, there is an end of morality. If he is 
not, something must limit and restrict him;—and that something 
is the Moral Law. 


158 


PROFESSIONAL UNTRUTHS. 


Essay 2 . 


Of every custom, however indefensible, some advocates offer 
themselves; and some accordingly have attempted to justify the 
practice of the bar. 1 Of that particular item in the practice, 
which consists in uttering untruths in order to serve a client, Dr. 
Paley has been the defender. “ There are falsehoods,” says he, 
“which are not criminal; as where no one is deceived, which is 
the case with an advocate in asserting the justice or his belief of 
the justice of his client’s cause.” It is plain that in support of 
this position one argument and only one can be urged, and that 
one has been selected. “No confidence is destroyed, because 
none was reposed; no promise to speak the truth is violated, be¬ 
cause none was given or understood to be given.” 2 The defence 
is not very creditable even if it were valid: it defends men from 
the imputation of falsehood because their falsehoods are so habitual 
that no one gives them credit ! 

But the defence is not valid. Of this the reader may satisfy 
himself by considering why, if no one ever believes what advocates 
say, they continue to speak. They would not, year after year, persist 
in uttering untruths in our courts, without attaining an object, and 
knowing that they would not attain it. If no one ever in fact 
believed them, they would cease to asseverate. They do not love 
falsehood for its own sake, and utter it gratuitously and for nothing. 
The custom itself, therefore, disproves the argument that is brought 
to defend it. Whenever that defence becomes valid,—whenever 
it is really true that “no confidence is reposed” in advocates, they 
will cease to use falsehood, for it will have lost its motive. But 
the real practice is to mingle falsehood and truth together, and so 
to involve the one with the other that the jury cannot easily sepa¬ 
rate them. The jury know that some of the pleader’s statements 
are true, and these they believe. Now he makes other statements 
with the same deliberate emphasis; and how shall the jury know 
whether these are false or true ? How shall they discover the 
point at which they shall begin to “repose no confidence?” 
Knowing that a part is true, they cannot always know" that 
another part is not true. That it is the pleader’s design to persuade 
them of the truth of all he affirms, is manifest. Suppose an advo¬ 
cate wdien he rose should say, “ Gentlemen, I am now going to 

1 I speak of the bar because that branch of the profession offers the most convenient 
illustration of the subject. The reasonings -will generally apply to other branches. 

2 Mor. and Pol. Phil. h. 3, p. 1, e. 15. 


Chap. 5 . 


PROFESSIONAL UNTRUTHS. 


159 


speak the truth;” and after narrating the facts of the case should 
say, “ Gentlemen, I am now going to address you with fictions.” 
Why would not an advocate do this 1 Because then no confidence 
would be reposed, which is the same thing as to say that he pur¬ 
sues his present plan because some confidence is reposed; and 
this decides the question. The decision should not be concealed,— 
that the advocate who employs untruths in his pleadings, does 
really and most strictly, lie. 

And even if no one ever did believe an advocate, his false 
declarations would still be lies, because he always professes to 
speak the truth. This indeed is true upon the Archdeacon’s own 
showing; for he says, “ Whoever seriously addresses his discourse 
to another, tacitly promises to speak the truth.” The case is very 
different from others which he proposes as parallel,—“ parables, 
fables, jests.” In these, the speaker does not profess to state facts. 
But the pleader does profess to state facts. He intends and 
endeavours to mislead. His untruths therefore are lies to him 
whether they are believed or not; just as, in vulgar life, a man 
whose falsehoods are so notorious that no one gives him credit, is 
not the less a liar than if he were believed. 

From one sort of legal falsehoods results one peculiar mischief, 
a mischief arising primarily out of an unhappy rule of law, but 
which is not on that account morally justifiable. “Decision is 
commanded by pleadings as by evidence, and that also to a vast 
extent and with, a degree of certainty refused to evidence. Deci¬ 
sion is produced by pleadings as if they were true, when they are 
known and acknowledged to be false; because they act as evidence 
and as true evidence in all cases where the opposed party cannot 
follow them by counter declarations,—a consequence which may 
and does result from poverty and other causes.” 1 This is deplora¬ 
ble indeed. To employ false pleadings is sufficiently unjustifiable; 
but to employ them in order that a poor man or that any man may 
be debarred of his rights, is abominable. But why do we say that 
this peculiarly is abominable] For to what purpose is any false¬ 
hood urged at the bar but to impede or prevent the administration 
of justice between man and man] I make no pretensions to legal 
knowledge. Some false pleadings are legally “necessary” in 
order to give formality to a proceeding. In these cases the evil 
is attributable in a great degree to the law itself,—though I pre- 

1 West. Rev. No. 9. 



160 


DEFENCES OF LEGAL PRACTICE. Essay 2. 


sume the law is founded upon custom, which custom was intro¬ 
duced by lawyers. The evil therefore and the guilt lies at the 
door of the system of legal practice, although it may not all lie at 
the doors of existing practitioners. 1 

Gisborne is another defender of legal practice, and assumes a 
wider ground of justification. “The standard,” says he, “to 
which the advocate refers the cause of his client, is not the law of 
reason nor the law of God, but the law of the land. His peculiar 
and proper object is not to prove the side of the question which he 
maintains morally right, but legally right. The law offers its pro¬ 
tection only on certain preliminary conditions; it refuses to take 
cognizance of injuries or to enforce redress, unless the one be 
proved in the specific manner and the other claimed in the precise 
form, which it prescribes; and consequently, whatever be the 
pleader’s opinion of his cause, he is guilty of no breach of truth 
and justice in defeating the pretensions of the persons whom he 
opposes, by evincing that they have not made good the terms on 
which alone they could be legally entitled, on which alone they 
could suppose themselves entitled, to success.” 2 There is some¬ 
thing specious in this reasoning, but what is its amount 1 —that if 
the laws of a country proceed upon such and such maxims they 
exempt us from the authority of the laws of God. We arrive at 
this often-refuted doctrine at last. Either the acts of a legislature 
may suspend the obligations of morality or they may not. If they 
may, there is an end of that morality which is founded upon the 
divine will: if they may not, the argument of Gisborne is a fal¬ 
lacy.—But in truth he himself shows its fallaciousness: he says, 
“ If a cause should present itself of an aspect so dark as to leave 
the advocate no reasonable doubt of its being founded in iniquity 
or baseness, or to justify extremely strong suspicions of its evil 
nature and tendency, he is bound in the sight of God to refuse all 
connection with the business.” Why is he thus bound to refuse 1 

1 Some of these legal falsehoods are ridiculous to the last degree. A horse is sent 
to a farrier to he shod. Unhappily, and to the great regret of the farrier, his man 
accidentally lames the horse. What then says the legal form? That the farrier 
faithfully promised to shoe the horse properly; hut that “ he, not regarding his said 
promise and undertaking, hut contriving and fraudulently intending, craftily, and 
subtilely to deceive and defraud the said plaintiff, did not nor would shoe the said 
horse, in a skilful, careful, and proper manner, See.!”—See the form, 2 Chitty on 
Pleading, p. 154. 

2 Duties of Men. The Legal Profession. 


Chap. 5 . 


EFFECTS OF LEGAL PRACTICE. 


161 


Because he will otherwise violate the Moral Law : and this is the 
very reason why he is bound in other cases. Observe too the 
inconsistency: first we are told that whatever be the pleader’s 
opinion of a cause, “ he is guilty of no breach of truth and justice” 
in advocating it; and afterwards, that if the cause is of an “ evil 
nature and tendency” he may not advocate it! That such reason¬ 
ing does not prove what it is designed to prove is evident; but it 
proves something else,—that the practice cannot be defended. 
Such reasoning would not be advanced if better could be found. 
Let us not however seem to avail ourselves of a writer’s words 
without reference to his meaning. The meaning in the present 
instance is clearly this,—that a pleader, generally, may undertake 
a vicious cause; but that if it be very vicious, he must refrain. 
You may abet an act of a certain shade of iniquity, but not if it 
be of a certain shade deeper: you may violate the Moral Law to 
a certain extent, but not to every extent. To him who would 
recommend rectitude in its purity, few reasonings are more satis¬ 
factory than such as these. They prove the truth which they 
assail by evincing that it cannot be disproved. 

Dr. Johnson tried a shorter course : “ You do not know a cause 
to be good or bad till the judge determines it. An argument that 
does not convince you may convince the judge to whom you urge 
it, and if it does convince him, why then he is right and you are 
wrong.” This is satisfactory. It is always satisfactory to per¬ 
ceive that a powerful intellect can find nothing but idle sophistry 
to urge against the obligations of virtue. One other argument is 
this: Eminent barristers, it is said, should not be too scrupulous, 
because clients might fear their causes would be rejected by vir¬ 
tuous pleaders, and might therefore go to “ needy and unprincipled 
chicaners.” Why, if their causes were good, virtuous pleaders 
would undertake them; and if they were bad, it matters not how 
soon they were discountenanced. In a right state of things, the 
very circumstance that only an “ unprincipled chicaner” would 
undertake a particular cause, would go far towards procuring a 
verdict against it. Besides, it is a very loose morality that 
recommends good men to do improper things lest they should be 
done by the bad. 

Seeing therefore that no tolerable defence can be adduced of 
the ordinary legal practice, let us consider for a moment what are 
its practical results. 

M 




162 


SEDUCTION. 


Essay 2 . 


A civil action is brought into court, and evidence has been 
heard which satisfies every man that the plaintiff is entitled in 
justice to a verdict. It is, on the part of the defendant, a clear 
case of dishonesty. Suddenly, the pleader discovers that there is 
some verbal flaw in a document, some technical irregularity in the 
proceedings,—and the plaintiff loses his cause. The public are 
disappointed in their expectations of justice; the jury and the 
court are grieved; and the unhappy sufferer retires, injured and 
wronged—without redress or hope of redress. Can this be right 1 
Can it be sufficient to justify a man in this conduct, to urge that 
such things are his business,—the means by which he obtains his 
living ] The same excuse wmuld justify a corsair, or a troop of 
Arabian banditti which plunders the caravan. Yet indefensible, 
immoral, as this conduct is, it is the every day practice of the 
profession; and the amount of injustice which is inflicted by this 
practice, is enormous. The plea that such are the rules of the 
law, is not admissible. Whatever utility we may be disposed to 
allow to the uniform application of the law, it wall not justify such 
conduct as this. The integrity of the law w'ould not have been 
violated, though the pleader had not pointed out the mis-spelling, 
for example, of a word. For a judge to refuse to allow the law to 
take its course after the mistake has been urged, is one thing; for 
a pleader to detect and to urge it, is another. The judge may not 
be able to regard the equity of the case without sacrificing the 
uniform operation of the law. But if the inadvertency is not 
pointed out, that uniform operation is perfect though equity be 
awarded. There is no excuse for thus inflicting injustice. It is 
an act of pure gratuitous mischief: an act not required by law, an 
act condemned by morality, an act possessing no apology but that 
the agent is tempted by the gains of his profession. 

An unhappy father seeks, in a court of justice, some redress for 
the misery which a seducer has inflicted upon his family; a 
redress which, if he were successful, is deplorably inadequate, both 
as a recompense to the sufferers and as a punishment to the cri¬ 
minal. The case is established, and it is manifest that equity and 
the public good require exemplary damages. What then does the 
pleader do! He stands up and employs every contrivance to 
prevent the jury from awarding these damages. He eloquently 
endeavours to persuade them that the act involved little guilt; 
casts undeserved imputations upon the immediate sufferer and 



Chap. 5 . 


TECHNICAL NICETIES. 


163 


upon her family; jests, and banters, and sneers, about all the 
evidence of the case; imputes bad motives (without truth or with 
it) to the prosecutor; expatiates upon the little property (whether 
it be little or much) which the seducer possesses; by these and by 
such means he labours to prevent this injured father from obtain¬ 
ing any redress, to secure the criminal from all punishment, and to 
encourage in other men the crime itself. Compassion, justice, 
morality, the public good, every thing is sacrificed—to what] To 
that which, upon such a subject, it were a shame to mention. 

In the criminal courts, the same conduct is practised, and with 
the same indefensibility. Can it be necessary, or ought it to be 
necessary, to insist upon the proposition,—“ If it be right that 
offenders should be punished, it is not right to make them pass 
with impunity.” If a police officer has seized a thief and carried 
him to prison, every one knows that it would be vicious in me to 
effect his escape. Yet this is the every day practice of the pro¬ 
fession. It is their regular and constant endeavour to prevent 
justice from being administered to offenders. Is it a sufficient 
justification of preventing the execution of justice, of preventing 
that which every good citizen is desirous of promoting,—to say 
that a man is an advocate by profession ] Is the circumstance of 
belonging to the legal profession a good reason for disregarding 
those duties which are obligatory upon every other man] He 
who wards off punishment from swindlers and robbers and sends 
them amongst the public upon the work of fraud and plunder 
again, surely deserves worse of his country than many a hungry 
man who filches a loaf or a trinket from a stall.—As to employing 
legal artifices or the tactics of declamation in order to obtain the 
conviction of a prisoner whom there is reason to believe to be 
innocent; or as to endeavouring to inflict upon him a punishment 
greater than his deserts, the wickedness is so palpable that it is 
wonderful that even the power of custom protects it from the 
reprobation of the world. 

In Scotland, where the criminal process is in some respects 
superior to ours, the proportion of those prisoners who escape 
punishment on account of technical niceties,” is very great. 
“ Of the persons acquitted in our courts, at least one half escape 
from technical niceties, or rules of evidence which give advantage 
to the prisoner, with which, in the other part of the island, they 
are wholly unacquainted.” 1 Is not this a great public evil ] And 

1 Remarks on the Administration of Criminal Justice in Scotland, kc. 




164 


PECULATION. 


Essay 2 . 


if we charge that evil originally upon the law, is it warrantable, is 
it moral, in the advocate actively to increase and extend it 1 

The plea that it is of consequence that law should he uniformly 
administered, does not suffice to justify the pleader in criminal any 
more than in civil courts. “ A thief was caught coming out of a 
house in Highbury-terrace, with a watch he had stolen therein 
upon him. He was found guilty by the jury upon the clearest 
evidence of the theft; but his counsel having discovered that he 
was charged in the indictment with having stolen a watch the 
property of the owner of the house, whereas the watch really 
belonged to his daughter, the prisoner got clear off.” 1 The pre¬ 
text of the value of an uniform operation of the law will not avail 
here. Suppose the counsel, though he did discover the watch was 
the daughter’s, had not insisted upon the inaccuracy, no evil would 
have ensued. The integrity of the law would not have been vio¬ 
lated. The act of a counsel therefore in such a case is simply and 
only a defeat of public justice, an injury to the state, an encourage¬ 
ment to thieves; and surely there is no reason, either in morals or 
in common sense, why any particular class of men should be pri¬ 
vileged thus to injure the community. 

The wdfe of a respectable tradesman in the town in which I live, 
was left a widow with eight or ten children. She employed a 
confidential person to assist in conducting the business. The 
business was flourishing; and yet at the end of every year she 
was surprised and afflicted to find that her profits were unaccount¬ 
ably small. At length this confidential person was suspected of 
peculation. Money was marked and placed as usual under his 
care. It was soon missed and found upon his person ; and when 
the police searched his house, they found in his possession, me¬ 
thodically stowed away, five or six thousand pounds, the accumu¬ 
lated plunder of years! This cruel and atrocious robber found no 
difficulty in obtaining advocates who employed every artifice of 
defence, who had recourse to every technicality of law, to screen 
him from punishment and to secure for him the quiet possession 
of his plunder. They found in the indictment some word, of 
which the ordinary and the legal acceptation were different; and 
the indictment was quashed! Happily, another was proof against 
the casuistry, and the criminal was found guilty. 

Will it be said that pleaders are not supposed to know, till the 
verdict is pronounced, whether a prisoner is guilty or not ? If this 
1 West. Rev. No. 8, Art. 4. 




Chap. 5. PLEADING IN COURTS OF JUSTICE. 


165 


were true it would not avail as a justification; but in reality it is 
only a subterfuge. In this very case, after the verdict had been 
pronounced, after the prisoner’s guilt had been ascertained, a new 
trial was obtained; not on account of any doubt in the evidence,— 
that was unequivocal,—but on account of some irregularity in 
passing sentence. And now the same conduct was repeated. 
Knowing that the prisoner was guilty, advocates still exerted their 
talents and eloquence to procure impunity for him, nay to reward 
him at the expense of public duty and of private justice. They 
did not succeed: the plunderer was transported; but their want 
of success does not diminish the impropriety, the immorality , of 
their endeavours. If, by the trickery of law, this man had obtained 
an acquittal, what would have been the consequence l Not merely 
that he would have possessed undisturbed his plundered thousands; 
not merely that he might have laughed at the family whose money 
he was spending; but that a hundred or a thousand other shop¬ 
men, taking confidence from his success and his impunity, might 
enter upon a similar course of treachery and fraud. They might 
think that if the hour of detection should arrive, nothing was want¬ 
ing but a sagacious advocate to protect them from punishment and 
to secure their spoil. Will any man then say, as an excuse for 
the legal practice, that it is “usual,” “customary,” the “business 
of the profession]” It is preposterous. 1 

It really is a dreadful consideration, that a body of men, respect¬ 
able in the various relationships of life, should make, in consequence 
of the vicious maxims of a profession, these deplorable sacrifices 
of rectitude. To a writer upon such a subject, it is difficult to 
speak with that plainness which morality requires, without seem¬ 
ing to speak illiberally of men. But it is not a question of libe¬ 
rality but of morals. When a barrister arrives at an assize town 
on the circuit, and tacitly publishes that (abating a few and only a 
few cases) he is willing to take the brief of any client; that he is 
ready to employ his abilities, his ingenuity, in proving that any 

1 Some obstacles in the way of this mode of defeating the ends of justice have been 
happily interposed by the admirable exertions of the late Secretary of State for the 
Home Department. Still such cases are applicable as illustrations of what the duties 
of the profession are; and unfortunately, opportunities in abundance remain for sacri¬ 
ficing the duties of the profession to its “business.” Here, without any advertence 
to political opinion, it may be remarked, that one such statesman as Robert Peel 
is of more value to his country than a multitude of those who take office and leave it, 
without any endeavour to ameliorate the national institutions. 



166 


WHAT ARE THE DUTIES 


Essay 2 . 


given cause is good or that it is bad; and when, having gone 
before a jury, he urges the side on which he happens to have been 
employed, with all the earnestness of seeming integrity and truth, 
and bends all the faculties which God has given him in promotion 
of its success;—when we see all this, and remember that it was 
the toss of a die whether he should have done exactly the contrary, 
I think that no expression characterizes the procedure but that of 
intellectual and moral 'prostitution. In any other place than a 
court of justice, every one would say that it was prostitution: a 
court of justice cannot make it less. 

Perhaps the reader has heard of the pleader who, by some acci¬ 
dent, mistook the side on which he was to argue, and earnestly 
contended for the opponent’s cause. His distressed client at 
length conveyed an intimation of his mistake, and he, with 
forensic dexterity, told the jury that hitherto he had only been 
anticipating the arguments of the opposing counsel, and that now 
he would proceed to show they were fallacious. If the reader 
should imagine there is peculiar indecency in this, his sentiment 
would be founded upon habit rather than upon reason. There is, 
really, very little difference between contending for both sides of 
the same cause, and contending for either side as the earliest 
retainer may decide. I lately read the report of a trial in which 
retainers from both parties had been sent to a counsel, and when 
the cause was brought into court, it was still undecided for whom 
he should appear. The scale was turned by the judgment of 
another counsel, and the pleader instantly appeared on behalf of 
the client to whom his brother had allotted him.—From the mis¬ 
take which is mentioned at the head of this paragraph, let clients 
take a beneficial hint. I suggest to them, if their opponent has 
engaged the ablest counsel, to engage him also themselves. The 
arrangement might easily be managed, and would be attended with 
manifest advantages: clients would be sure of arraying against 
each other equal abilities; justice would be promoted by prevent¬ 
ing the triumph of the more skilful pleader over the less; and the 
minds of juries might more quietly weigh the conflicting argu¬ 
ments, when they were all proved and all refuted by one man. 

Probably it will be asked, What is a legal man to do I How 
shall he discriminate his duties, or know, in the present state of 
legal institutions, what extent of advocation morality allows] 
These are fair questions, and he who asks them is entitled to an 


Chap. 5 . 


OF THE PROFESSION. 


167 


answer. I confess that an answer is difficult: and why is it diffi¬ 
cult 1 Because the whole system is unsound. He who would 
rectify the ordinary legal practice, is in the situation of a physi¬ 
cian who can scarcely prescribe with effect for a particular symp¬ 
tom in a patient’s case, unless he will submit to an entirely new 
regimen and mode of lif$. The conscientious lawyer is surrounded 
with temptations and with difficulties resulting from the general 
system of the law; difficulties and temptations so great that it 
may almost appear to be the part of a wise man to fly rather than 
to encounter them. There is however nothing necessarily inci¬ 
dental to the legal profession which makes it incompatible with 
morality. He who has the firmness to maintain his allegiance to 
virtue may doubtless maintain it. Such a man would consider, 
that law being in general the practical standard of equity, the 
pleader may properly illustrate and enforce it. He may assi¬ 
duously examine statutes and precedents, and honourably adduce 
them on behalf of his client. He may distinctly and luminously 
exhibit his client’s claims. In examining his witnesses he may 
educe the whole truth: in examining the other party’s, he may 
endeavour to detect collusion and to elicit facts which they may 
attempt to conceal; in a word, he may lay before the court a just 
and lucid view of the whole question.—But he may not quote 
statutes and adjudged cases which he really does not think apply 
to the subject, or if they do appear to apply, he may not urge them 
as possessing greater force or applicability than he really thinks 
they possess. He may not endeavour to mislead the jury by 
appealing to their feelings, by employing ridicule, and especially 
by unfounded insinuations or misreprentation of facts. He may 
not endeavour to make his own witnesses affirm more than he 
thinks they know, or induce them, by artful questions to give a 
colouring to facts, different from the colouring of truth. He may 
not endeavour to conceal, or discredit the truth by attempting to 
confuse the other witnesses, or by entrapping them into contradic¬ 
tions. Such as these appear to be the rules which rectitude 
imposes in ordinary cases. There are some cases which a profes¬ 
sional man ought not to undertake at all. This is indeed acknow¬ 
ledged by numbers of the profession. The obligation to reject 
them is of course founded upon their contrariety to virtue. How 
then shall a legal man know whether he ought to undertake a 
cause at all, but by some previous consideration of its merits? 



168 WHAT ARE THE DUTIES, &c. Essay 2. 

This must really be done if he would conform to the requisitions 
of morality. There is not an alternative: and “absurd” or 
“ impracticable” as it may be pronounced to be, we do not shrink 
from explicitly maintaining the truth. Impracticable! it is at any 
rate not impracticable to withdraw from the profession or to decline 
to enter it. A man is not compelled to be a lawyer; and if there 
are so many difficulties in the practice of professional virtue, what 
is to be said 1 Are we to say, Virtue must be sacrificed to a pro¬ 
fession,—or, The profession must be sacrificed to Virtue] The 
pleader will perhaps say that he cannot tell what the merits of a 
case are until they are elicited in court: but this surely would not 
avail to justify a disregard of morality in any other case. To 
defend oneself for an habitual disregard of the claims of rectitude, 
because we cannot tell, when we begin a course of action, whether 
it will involve a sacrifice of rectitude or not, is an ill defence 
indeed. At any rate, if he connects himself with a cause of 
questionable rectitude, he needs not and he ought not to advocate 
it, whilst ignorant of its merits, as if he knew that it was good. 
He ought not to advocate it further than he thinks it is good. 
But if any apologist for legal practice should say that a pleader 
knows nothing or almost nothing of a brief till he is instructed in 
court by a junior counsel, or that he has too many briefs to be 
capable of any previous inquiry about them, the answer is at 
hand,—Refuse them. It would only add one example to the 
many,—that Virtue cannot always be maintained without cost. 
It is necessary that a man should adhere to virtue; it is not 
necessary that he should be overwhelmed with briefs. 

There is one consideration under which a pleader may assist a 
client even with a bad cause, which is, that it is proper to prevent 
the client from suffering too far. I would acknowledge, generally, 
the justice of the opposite party’s claims, or if it were a criminal 
case, I would acquiesce in the evidence which carried conviction 
to my mind; but still, in both, something may remain for the 
pleader to do. The plaintiff may demand a thousand pounds 
when only eight hundred are due, and a pleader, though he could 
not with integrity resist the whole demand, could resist the excess 
of the demand above the just amount. Or if a prosecutor urges 
the guilt of a prisoner and attempts to procure the infliction of an 
undue punishment, a pleader, though he knows the prisoner’s 
guilt, may rightly prevent a sentence too severe. Murray the 


EFFECTS ON THE PROFESSION. 


169 


Chap. 5. 


grammarian had been a barrister in America: “ I do not recollect,” 
says he, “ that I ever encouraged a client to proceed at law when 
I thought his cause was unjust or indefensible; but in such cases, 
I believe it was my invariable practice to discourage litigation and 
to recommend a peaceable settlement of differences. In the retro¬ 
spect of this mode of practice, 6 I have always had great satisfaction, 
and I am persuaded that a different procedure would have been 
the source of many painful recollections.” 1 

One serious consideration remains,—the effect of the immorality 
of Legal Practice upon the personal character of the profession. 
“ The lawyer who is frequently engaged in resisting what he 
strongly suspects to be just, in maintaining what he deems to be 
in strictness untenable, in advancing inconclusive reasoning, and 
seeking after flaws in the sound replies of his antagonists, can be 
preserved by nothing short of serious and invariable solicitude, 
from the risk of having the distinction between moral right and 
wrong almost erased from his mind,” 2 Is it indeed so? Tremen¬ 
dous is the risk. Is it indeed so 1 Then the custom which entails 
this fearful risk must infallibly be bad. Assuredly, no virtuous 
conduct tends to erase the distinctions between right and wrong 
from the mind. 


It is by no means certain, that if a lawyer were to enter upon 
life with a steady determination to act upon the principles of strict 
integrity, his experience would occasion any exception to the 
general rule that the path of virtue is the path of interest. The 
client who was conscious of the goodness of his cause, would prefer 
the advocate whose known maxims of conduct gave weight to 
every cause that he undertook. When such a man appeared 
before a jury, they would attend to his statements and his reason¬ 
ings with that confidence which integrity only can inspire. They 
would not make, as they now do, perpetual deductions from his 
averred facts : they w r ould not be upon the watch, as they now are, 
to protect themselves from illusion, and casuistry, and misrepre¬ 
sentation. Such a man I say, would have a weight of advocacy 
which no other qualification can supply; and upright clients, 
knowing this, would find it their interest to employ him. The 
majority of clients it is to be hoped are upright. Professional 
1 Memoirs of Lindley Murray, p. 43. 2 Gisborne. 




170 


EFFECTS ON THE PUBLIC. 


Essay 2. 


success therefore would probably follow. And if a few such 
pleaders, nay if one such pleader was established, the consequence 
might be beneficial and extensive to a degree which it is not easy 
to compute. It might soon become necessary for other pleaders to 
act upon the same principles, because clients would not entrust 
their interests to any but those whose characters would give 
weight to their advocacy. Thus even the profligate part of the pro¬ 
fession might be reformed by motives of interest if not from choice. 
Want of credit might be want of practice; for it might eventually 
be almost equivalent to the loss of a cause to entrust it to a bad 
man. The effects would extend to the public. If none but up¬ 
right men could be efficient advocates, and if upright men would 
not advocate vicious causes, vicious causes would not be prose¬ 
cuted. But if such be the probable or even the possible results of 
sterling integrity, if it might be the means of reforming the practice 
of a large and influential profession, and of almost exterminating 
wicked litigation from a people,—the obligation to practise this 
integrity is proportionately great: the amount of depending good 
involves a corresponding amount of responsibility upon him who 
contributes to perpetuate the evil. 



CHAPTER VI. 


PROMISES.™LIEfS. 

A promise is a contract, differing from such contracts as a 
lawyer would draw up, in the circumstance that ordinarily it is 
not written. The motive for signing a contract is to give assur¬ 
ance or security to the receiver that its terms will he fulfilled. 
The same motive is the inducement to a promise. The general 
obligation of promises needs little illustration, because it is not 
disputed. Men are not left without the consciousness that what 
they promise, they ought to perform; and thus thousands, who can 
give no philosophical account of the matter, know, with certain 
assurance, that if they violate their engagements they violate the 
law of God. 

Some philosophers deduce the obligation of promises from the 
expediency of fulfilling them. Doubtless fulfilment is expedient; 
but there is a shorter and a safer road to truth. To promise and 
not to perform, is to deceive; and deceit is peculiarly and espe¬ 
cially condemned by Christianity. A lie has been defined to be 
“a breach of promise;” and, since the Scriptures condemn lying, 
they condemn breaches of promise. 

Persons sometimes deceive others by making a promise in a 
sense different from that in which they know it will be understood. 
They hope this species of deceit is less criminal than breaking 
their word, and wish to gain the advantage of deceiving without 
its guilt. They dislike the shame but perform the act. A son 
has abandoned his father’s house, and the father promises that if 
he returns, he shall be received with open arms. The son returns, 
the father “ opens his arms” to receive him, and then proceeds to 
treat him with rigour. This father falsifies his promise as truly 
as if he had specifically engaged to treat him with kindness. The 
sense in which a promise binds a person, is the sense in which he 
knows it is accepted by the other party. 




172 


PAROLE.—PROMISES. 


Essay 2 . 


It is very possible to promise without speaking. Those who 
purchase at auctions frequently advance on the price by a sign or 
a nod. An auctioneer, in selling an estate says, “ Nine hundred 
and ninety pounds are offered,” He who makes the customary 
sign to indicate an advance of ten pounds, promises to give a 
thousand.—A person who brings up his children or others in the 
known and encouraged expectation that he will provide for them, 
promises to provide for them. A shipmaster promises to deliver 
a pipe of wine at the accustomed port, although he may have 
made no written and no verbal engagement respecting it. 

Parole, such as is taken of military men, is of imperative obli¬ 
gation. The prisoner who escapes by breach of parole, ought to 
be regarded as the perpetrator of an aggravated crime: aggra¬ 
vated, since his word was accepted, as he knows, because peculiar 
reliance was placed upon it, and since he adds to the ordinary guilt 
of breach of promise, that of casting suspicion and entailing suffer¬ 
ing upon other men. If breach of parole were general, parole 
would not be taken. It is one of the anomalies which are pre¬ 
sented by the adherents to the law of honour, that they do not 
reject from their society the man who impeaches their respecta¬ 
bility and his own, whilst they reject the man who really impeaches 
neither the one nor the other.—To say, I am a man of honour and 
therefore you may rely upon my word; and then, as soon as it is 
accepted, to violate that word, is no ordinary deceit. An upright 
man never broke parole^ 

Promises are not binding if performance is unlawful. Some¬ 
times men promise to commit a wicked act—even to assassination ; 
but a man is not required to commitTmurder because he has pro¬ 
mised to commit it. Thus, in the Christian Scriptures, the son 
who had said, “ I will not” work in the vineyard, and “ afterwards 
repented and went,” is spoken of with approbation : his promise 
was not binding because fulfilment would have been wrong. 
Cranmer, whose religious firmness was overcome in the prospect 
of the stake, recanted; that is, he promised to abandon the pro- 
testant faith. Neither was his promise binding. To have re¬ 
garded it would have been a crime. The offence both of Cranmer 
and of the son in the parable, consisted not in violating their pro¬ 
mises but in making them. 

Some scrupulous persons appear to attach a needless obligation 
to expressions which they employ in the form of promises. You 


EXTORTED PROMISES. 


173 


Chap. 6. 


ask a lady if she will join a party in a walk; she declines, hut 
presently recollecting some inducement to go, she is in doubt whe¬ 
ther her refusal does not oblige her to stay at home. Such a 
person should recollect, that her refusal does not partake of the 
character of a promise : there is no other party to it; she comes 
under no engagement to another. She only expresses her present 
intention, which intention she is at liberty to alter. 

Many promises are conditional though the conditions are not 
expressed. A man says to some friends, I will dine with you at 
two o’clock; but as he is preparing to go, his child meets with an 
accident which requires his attention. This man does not violate 
a promise by absenting himself, because such promises are in fact 
made and accepted with the tacit understanding that they are sub¬ 
ject to such conditions. No one would expect, when his friend 
engaged to dine with him, that he intended to bind himself to 
come, though he left a child unassisted with a fractured arm. 
Accordingly, when a person means to exclude such conditions he 
says, “I will certainly do so and so if I am living and able.” 

Yet, even to seem to disregard an engagement is an evil. To 
an ingenuous and Christian mind there is always something painful 
in not performing it. Of this evil the principal source is gratui¬ 
tously brought upon us by the habit of using unconditional terms 
for conditional engagements. That which is only intention should 
be expressed as intention. It is better, and more becoming the 
condition of humanity, to say, I intend to do a thing, than, I will 
do a thing. The recollection of our dependency upon uncontrol¬ 
lable circumstances should be present with us even in little affairs 
—“ Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow we will go into 
such a city and buy and sell and get gain: whereas ye know not 
what shall be on the morrow.—Ye ought to say, If the Lord will, 
we shall live, and do this or that.” Not indeed that the sacred 
name of God is to be introduced to express the conditions of our 
little engagements; but the principle should never be forgotten,— 
that we know not what shall be on the morrow. 

Respecting the often discussed question whether extorted pro¬ 
mises are binding, there has been, I suspect, a general want of 
advertence to one important point. What is an extorted promise 1 
If by an extorted promise, is meant a promise that is made invo¬ 
luntarily, without the concurrence of the will; if it is the effect of 
any ungovernable impulse, and made without the consciousness of 



174 


JOHN FLETCHER. 


Essay 2 . 


the party,—then it is not a promise. This may happen. Fear or 
agitation may be so great that a person really does not know what 
he says or does; and in such a case a man’s promises do not bind 
him any more than the promises of a man in a fit of insanity. 
But if by an “ extorted” promise it is only meant that very 
powerful inducements w r ere held out to making it, inducements 
however which did not take away the power of choice,—then 
these promises are in strictness voluntary, and like all other 
voluntary engagements, they ought to be fulfilled. But perhaps 
fulfilment is itself unlawful. Then you may not fulfil it. The 
offence consists in making such engagements. It will be said, a 
robber threatened to take my life unless I would promise to reveal 
the place where my neighbour’s money was deposited. Ought I 
not to make the promise in order to save my life 1 No. Here, in 
reality, is the origin of the difficulties and the doubts. To rob 
your neighbour is criminal; to enable another man to rob him, is 
criminal too. Instead therefore of discussing the obligation of 
“extorted” promises, we should consider whether such promises 
may lawfully be made. The prospect of saving life is one of the 
utmost inducements to make them, and yet, amongst those things 
which we are to hold subservient to our Christian fidelity, is our 
“own life also.” If, however, giving way to the weakness of 
nature, a person makes the promise, he should regulate his per¬ 
formance by the ordinary principles. Fulfil the promise unless 
fulfilment be wrong: and if, in estimating the propriety of fulfil¬ 
ling it, any difficulty arises, it must be charged not to the imper¬ 
fection of moral principles, but to the entanglement in which we 
involve ourselves by having begun to deviate from rectitude. If 
we had not unlawfully made the promise we should have had no 
difficulty in ascertaining our subsequent duty. The traveller who 
does not desert the proper road, easily finds his way; he who 
once loses sight of it, has many difficulties in returning. 

The history of that good man John Fletcher (La Flechere) 
affords an example to our purpose. Fletcher had a brother, De 
Gons, and a nephew, a profligate youth. This youth came one 
day to his uncle De Gons, and holding up a pistol, declared he 
would instantly shoot him if he did not give him an order for five 
hundred crowns. De Gons in terror gave it; and the nephew 
then, under the same threat, required him solemnly to promise that 
he would not prosecute him; and De Gons made the promise 


Chap. 6 . 


LIES.—MILTON’S DEFINITION. 


175 


accordingly. That is what is called an extorted promise, and an 
extorted gift. How, in similar circumstances, did Fletcher act? 
This youth afterwards went to him, told him of the “present” 
which De Gons had made, and showed him the order. Fletcher 
suspected some fraud, and thinking it right to prevent its success, 
he put the order in his pocket. It was at the risk of his life. The 
young man instantly presented his pistol, declaring that he would 
fire if he did not deliver it up. Fletcher did not submit to the 
extortion : he told him that his life was secure under the protection 
of God, refused to deliver up the order, and severely remonstrated 
with his nephew on his profligacy. The young man was restrained 
and softened; and before he left his uncle, gave him many assur¬ 
ances that he would amend his life.^-De Gons might have been 
perplexed with doubts as to the obligation of his “extorted” pro¬ 
mise : Fletcher could have no doubts to solve. 


LIES. 

The guilt of lying, like that of many other offences, has been 
needlessly founded upon its ill effects. These effects constitute a 
good reason for adhering to truth, but they are not the greatest nor 
the best. “ Putting away lying, speak every man truth with his 
neighbour.” 1 “ Ye shall not steal, neither deal falsely, neither lie 

one to another.” 2 “The law is made for unholy and profane, for 
murderers,—for liars.” 3 It may afford the reader some instruction, 
to observe with what crimes lying is associated in Scripture,— 
with perjury, and murder, and parricide. Not that it is necessary 
to suppose that the measure of guilt of these crimes is equal, but 
that the guilt of all is great. With respect to lying, there is no 
trace in these passages that its guilt is conditional upon its effects , 
or that it is not always, and for whatever purpose, prohibited by 
the Divine Will. 

A lie is, uttering what is not true when the speaker professes to 
utter truth, or when he knows it is expected by the hearer. I do 
not perceive that any looser definition is allowable, because every 
looser definition would permit deceit. 

Milton’s definition, considering the general tenor of his cha¬ 
racter, was very lax. He says, “ Falsehood is incurred when any 
1 Eph. iv. 25. 2 Lev. xix. 11. 3 1 Tim. i. 9, 10. 



176 


LIES IN WAR.—PALEY. 


Essay 2 . 


one, from a dishonest motive, either perverts the truth or utters 
what is false to one to whom it is his duty to speak the truth ." 1 
To whom is it not our duty to speak the truth 1 What constitutes 
duty but the will of God ? and where is it found that it is his will 
that we should sometimes lie ?—But another condition is proposed : 
In order to constitute a lie, the motive to it must be dishonest. Is 
not all deceit dishonesty; and can any one utter a lie without de¬ 
ceit ! A man who travels in the Arctic regions comes home and 
writes a narrative, professedly faithful, of his adventures, and de¬ 
corates it with marvellous incidents which never happened, and 
stories of winders which he never saw. You tell this man he has 
been passing lies upon the public. Oh no, he says, I had not “ a 
dishonest motive.” I only meant to make readers wonder.—Mil¬ 
ton’s mode of substantiating his doctrine, is worthy of remark. 
He makes many references for authority to the Hebrew Scriptures 
but not one to the Christian. The reason is plain though perhaps 
he was not aware of it, that the purer moral system which the 
Christian Lawgiver introduced, did not countenance the doctrine. 
Another argument is so feeble that it may well be concluded no 
valid argument can be found. If it had been discoverable would 
not Milton have found it 1 He says, “ It is universally admitted 
that feints and stratagems in war, when unaccompanied by per¬ 
jury or breach of faith, do not fall under the description of false¬ 
hood.—It is scarcely possible to execute any of the artifices of 
war, without openly uttering the greatest untruths with the indis¬ 
putable intention of deceiving.” 2 And so, because the “ greatest 
untruths” are uttered in conducting one of the most flagitious 
departments of the most unchristian system in the world, we are 
told, in a system of Christian Doctrine, that untruths are lawful! 

Paley’s philosophy is yet more lax : he says that we may tell a 
falsehood to a person who “has no right to know the truth.” 3 
What constitutes a right to know the truth, it were not easy to 
determine. But if a man has no right to know the truth—with¬ 
hold it ; but do not utter a lie. A man has no right to know how 
much property I possess. If however he impertinently chooses to 
ask, what am I to do ] Refuse to tell him , says Christian morality. 
What am I to do ] Tell him it is ten times as great as it is, says 
the morality of Paley. 

To say that when a man is tempted to employ a falsehood, he is 
1 Christian Doctrine, p. 658. 2 Id. 659. 3 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 15. 


Chap. 6 . 


LIES TO LUNATICS. 


177 


to consider the degree of “ inconveniency which results from the 
Avant of confidence in such cases,” 1 and to employ the falsehood or 
not as this degree shall prescribe, is surely to trifle with morality. 
What is the hope that a man will decide aright, who sets about 
such a calculation at such a time! Another kind of falsehood 
which it is said is lawful, is that “to a robber, to conceal your 
property.” A man gets into my house, and desires to know 
where he shall find my plate. I tell him it is in a chest in such a 
room, knowing that it is in a closet in another. By such a false¬ 
hood I might save my property or possibly my life; but if the 
prospect of doing this be a sufficient reason for violating the Moral 
Law, there is no action which we may not lawfully commit. May 
a person, in order so to save his property or life, commit parricide 1 
Every reader says. No. But where is the ground of the distinc¬ 
tion 1 If you may lie for the sake of such advantages, why may 
you not kill1 What makes murder unlawful but that which 
makes lying unlawful too 1 No man surely will say that we must 
make distinctions in the atrocity of such actions, and that, though 
it is not lawful for the sake of advantage to commit an act of a 
certain intensity of guilt, yet it is lawful to commit one of a cer¬ 
tain gradation less. Such doctrine would be purely gratuitous 
and unfounded: it would be equivalent to saying that we are at 
liberty to disobey the Divine Laws when we think fit. The case 
is very simple: If I may tell a falsehood to a robber in order to 
save my property, I may commit parricide for the same purpose; 
for lying and parricide are placed together and jointly condemned 2 
in the revelation from God. 

Then we are told that we may “ tell a falsehood to a madman 
for his own advantage,” and this because it is beneficial. Dr. 
Carter may furnish an answer : he speaks of the Female Lunatic 
Asylum, Salpetriere, in Paris, and says, “ The great object to 
which the views of the officers of La Salpetriere are directed, is to 
gain the confidence of the patients; and this object is generally 
attained by gentleness, by appearing to take an interest in their 
affairs, by a decision of character equally remote from the extremes 
of indulgence and severity, and by the most scrupulous observance 
of good faith. Upon this latter, particu lar stress seems to be laid 
by M. Pinel, who remarks ‘ that insane persons, like children, lose 
all confidence and all respect if you fail in your word towards 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 15. 2 1 Tim. i. 9, 10. 

N 



178 


HYPERBOLE.—IRONY. 


Essay 2. 


them; and they immediately set their ingenuity to work to deceive 
and circumvent you.’ ,,;l —What then becomes of the doctrine of 
“telling falsehoods to madmen for their own advantage V* It is 
pleasant thus to find the evidence of experience enforcing the 
dictates of principle, and that what morality declares to be right, 
facts declare to be expedient. 

Persons frequently employ falsehoods to a sick man who cannot 
recover lest it should discompose his mind. This is called kind¬ 
ness, although an earnest preparation for death may be at stake 
upon their speaking the truth. There is a peculiar inconsistency 
sometimes exhibited on such occasions: the persons who will not 
discompose a sick man for the sake of his interests in futurity, will 
discompose him without scruple if he has not made his will. Is a 
bequest of more consequence to the survivor, than a hope full of 
immortality to the dying man 1 

It is curious to remark how zealously persons reprobate “ pious 
fraudsthat is, lies for the religious benefit of the deceived party. 
Surely if any reason for employing falsehood be a good one, it is 
the prospect of effecting religious benefit. How is it then that we 
so freely condemn these falsehoods, whilst we contend for others 
which are used for less important purposes 1 

Still, not every expression that is at variance with facts is a lie, 
because there are some expressions in which the speaker does not 
pretend, and the hearer does not expect, literal truth. Of this class 
are hyperboles and jests, fables and tales of professed fiction: of 
this class too, are parables, such as are employed in the New 
Testament. In such cases affirmative language is used in the 
same terms as if the allegations were true, yet as it is known that 
it does not profess to narrate facts, no lie is uttered. It is the 
same with some kinds of irony : “ Cry aloud,” said Elijah to the 
priests of the idol, “for he is a god , peradventure he sleepeth.”— 
And yet, because a given untruth is not a lie, it does not therefore 
follow that it is innocent: for it is very possible to employ such 
expressions without any sufficient justification. A man who 
thinks he can best inculcate virtue through a fable, may write 
one : he who desires to discountenance an absurdity, may employ 
irony. Yet every one should use as little of such language as he 
can, because it is frequently dangerous language. The man who 
familiarizes himself to a departure from literal truth, is in danger 

1 Account of the Principal Hospitals in France, &c. 


Chap. 6 . 


COMPLIMENTARY UNTRUTHS. 


179 


of departing from it without reason and without excuse. Some of 
these departures are like lies; so much like them that both speaker 
and hearer may reasonably question whether they are lies or not. 
The lapse from untruths which can deceive no one, to those which 
are intended to deceive, proceeds by almost imperceptible grada¬ 
tions on the scale of evil: and it is not the part of wisdom to 
approach the verge of guilt. Nor is it to be forgotten, that 
language, professedly fictitious, is not always understood to be 
such by those who hear it. This applies especially to the case of 
children,—that is, of mankind during that period of life in which 
they are acquiring some of their first notions of morality. The 
boy who hears his father using hyperboles and irony with a grave 
countenance, probably thinks he has his father’s example for telling 
lies amongst his schoolfellows. 

Amongst the indefensible untruths which often are not lies, are 
those which factitious politeness enjoins. Such are compliments 
and complimentary subscriptions, and many other untruths of 
expression and of action which pass currently in the world. 
These are, no doubt, often estimated at their value: the receiver 
knows that they are base coin though they shine like the good. 
Now, although it is not to be pretended that such expressions, so 
estimated, are lies, yet I will venture to affirm that the reader 
cannot set up for them any tolerable defence; and if he cannot 
show that they are right he may be quite sure that they are wrong. 
A defence has however been attempted: “ How much is haj^piness 
increased by the general adoption of a system of concerted and 
limited deceit! He from whose doctrine it flows that we are to be 
in no case hypocrites, would, in mere manners, reduce us to a 
degree of barbarism beyond that of the rudest savage.”—We do 
not enter here into such questions as whether a man may smile 
when his friend calls upon him, though he would rather just then 
that he had staid away. Whatever the reader may think of these 
questions, the “ system of deceit” which passes in the world cannot 
be justified by the decision. There is no fear that “ a degree of 
barbarism beyond that of the rudest savage” would ensue, if this 
system were amended. The first teachers of Christianity, who 
will not be charged with being in “any case hypocrites,” both 
recommended and practised gentleness and courtesy. 1 And as to 
the increase of happiness which is assumed to result from this 
1 1 Peter, ii. I. Tit. iii. 2. 1 Peter, iii. 8. 



180 


FALSEHOODS OF LEGAL DOCUMENTS. Essay 2. 


system of deceit, the fact is of a very questionable kind. No 
society I believe sufficiently discourages it; but that society which 
discourages it probably as much as any other, certainly enjoys its 
full average of happiness.—But the apology proceeds, and more 
seriously errs : “ The employment of falsehood for the production 
of good, cannot be more unworthy of the Divine Being than the 
acknowledged employment of rapine and murder for the same 
purpose.” 1 Is it then not perceived that to employ the wicked¬ 
ness of man is a very different thing from holding its agents 
innocent 1 Some of those whose wickedness has been thus em¬ 
ployed, have been punished for that wickedness. Even to show 
that the Deity has employed falsehood for the production of good, 
would in no degree establish the doctrine that falsehood is right. 

The childish and senseless practice of requiring servants to 
“deny” their masters, has had many apologists,—I suppose 
because many perceive that it is wrong. It is not always true 
that such a servant does not in strictness lie: for, how well soever 
the folly may be understood by the gay world, some who knock at 
their doors have no other idea than that they may depend upon 
the servant’s word. Of this, the servant is sometimes conscious, 
and to these persons therefore he who denies his master, lies. An 
uninitiated servant suffers a shock to his moral principles when he 
is first required to tell these falsehoods. It diminishes his previous 
abhorrence of lying, and otherwise deteriorates his moral character. 
Even if no such ill consequences resulted from this foolish custom, 
there is objection to it which is short, but sufficient ,—nothing can 
be said in its defence. 

Amongst the prodigious multiplicity of falsehoods which are 
practised in legal processes, the system of pleading not guilty is 
one that appears perfectly useless. By the rule, that ail who 
refused to plead were presumed to be guilty, prisoners were in 
some sort compelled to utter this falsehood before they could have 
the privilege of a trial. The law is lately relaxed; so that a pri¬ 
soner, if he chooses, may refuse to plead at all. Still, only a part 
of the evil is removed, for even now, to keep silent may be con¬ 
strued into a tacit acknowledgment of guilt, so that the temptation 
to falsehood is still exhibited. There is no other use in the custom 
of pleading guilty or not guilty, but that, if a man desires to 
acknowledge his guilt, he may have the opportunity; and this he 
1 Edin. Rev. vol. 1, Art. Belsham’s Philosophy of the Mind. 


Chap. 6 . FALSEHOODS OF LEGAL DOCUMENTS. 


181 


may have without any custom of the sort.—It cannot be doubted 
that the multitude of falsehoods which obtain in legal documents 
during the progress of a suit at law, have a powerful tendency to 
propagate habits of mendacity. A man sells goods to the value of 
twenty pounds to another, and is obliged to enforce payment by 
law. The lawyer draws up, for the creditor, a Declaration in 
Assumpsit, stating that the debtor owes him r orty pounds for 
goods sold, forty pounds for work done, forty pounds for money 
lent, forty pounds for money expended on his account, forty pounds 
for money received by the debtor for the creditor, and so on,—and 
that, two or three hundred pounds being thus due to the creditor, 
he has a just demand of twenty pounds upon the debtor! These 
falsehoods are not one half of what an every day Declaration in 
Assumpsit contains. If a person refuses to give up a hundred 
head of cattle which a farmer has placed in his custody, the farmer 
declares that he “casually lost” them, and that the other party 
“casually found” them: and then, instead of saying he casually 
lost a hundred head of cattle, he declares that it was a thousand 
bulls, a thousand cows, a thousand oxen, and a thousand heifers! 1 
I do not think that the habits of mendacity which such falsehoods 
are likely to encourage are the worst consequences of this unhappy 
system, but they are seriously bad. No man who considers the 
influence of habit upon the mind, can doubt that an ingenuous 
abhorrence of lying is likely to be diminished by familiarity with 
these extravagant falsehoods. 


See the Form, 2, Chitty on Pleading, p. 370. 



CHAPTER VII 


OATHS. 


THEIR MORAL CHARACTER: 

THEIR EFFICACY AS SECURITIES OF VERACITY : 

THEIR EFFECTS. 

“• An oath is that whereby we call God to witness the truth of 
what we say, with a curse upon ourselves, either implied or ex¬ 
pressed, should it prove false .” 1 

A curse. —Now supposing the Christian Scriptures to contain 
no information respecting the moral character of oaths, how far is 
it reasonable, or prudent, or reverent, for a man to stake his 
salvation upon the truth of what he says 1 To bring forward so 
tremendous an event as “ everlasting destruction from the presence 
of the Lord,” in attestation of the offence perhaps of a poacher or 
of the claim to a field, is surely to make, unwarrantably, light of 
most awful things. This consideration applies, even if a man is 
sure that he speaks the truth : hut who is, beforehand, sure of this 1 
Oaths in evidence, for example, are taken before the testimony 
is given. A person swears that he will speak the truth. Who, I 
ask, is sure that he will do this 1 Who is sure that the embar¬ 
rassment of a public examination, that the ensnaring questions of 
counsel, that the secret influence of inclination or interest, will not 
occasion him to utter one inaccurate expression ] Who, at any 
rate, is so sure of this that it is rational, or justifiable, specifically 
to stake his salvation upon his accuracy 1 Thousands of honest 
men have been mistaken; their allegations have been sincere, hut 
untrue. And if this should he thought not a legitimate objection, 
let it be remembered, that few men’s minds are so sternly upright, 
that they can answer a variety of questions upon subjects on which 
1 Milton: Christian Doctrine, p. 579. 




Chap. 7. 


IMMORALITY OF OATHS. 


183 


their feelings, and wishes, and interest are involved, without some 
little deduction from the truth, in speaking of matters that are 
against their cause, or some little overcolouring of facts in their own 
favour. It is a circumstance of constant occurrence, that even a well- 
intentioned witness adds to or deducts a little from the truth. Who 
then, amidst such temptation, would make, who ought to make, 
his hope of heaven dependent on his strict adherence to accurate 
veracity 1 And if such considerations indicate the impropriety of 
swearing upon subjects which affect the lives, and liberties, and 
property of others, how shall we estimate the impropriety of using 
these dreadful imprecations to attest the delivery of a summons for 
a debt of half-a-crown! 

These are moral objections to the use of oaths independently of 
any reference to the direct Moral Law. Another objection of the 
same kind is this: To take an oath is to assume that the Deity 
will become a party in the case,—that we can call upon Him, when 
we please, to follow up by the exercise of His almighty power, the 
contracts (often the very insignificant contracts) which men make 
with men. Is it not irreverent, and for that reason immoral, to 
call upon him to exercise this power in reference to subjects which 
are so insignificant that other men will scarcely listen with patience 
to their details 1 The objection goes even further. A robber exacts 
an oath of the man whom he has plundered, that he will not attempt 
to pursue or to prosecute him. Pursuit and prosecution are duties ; 
so then the oath assumes that the Deity will punish the swearer in 
futurity if he fulfils a duty. Confederates in a dangerous and 
wicked enterprize bind one another to secrecy and to mutual as¬ 
sistance, by oaths,—assuming that God will become a party to 
their wickedness, and if they do not perpetrate it will punish them 
for their virtue. 

Upon every subject of questionable rectitude that is sanctioned 
by habit and the usages of society, a person should place himself 
in the independent situation of an inquirer. He should not seek 
for arguments to defend an existing practice, but should simply 
inquire what our practice ought to be. One of the most powerful 
causes of the slow amendment of public institutions, consists in 
this circumstance, that most men endeavour rather to justify what 
exists than to consider whether it ought to exist or not. This 
cause operates upon the question of oaths. We therefore invite 
the reader, in considering the citation which follows, to suppose 


184 


OATHS OF THE ANCIENT JEWS. Essay 2 


himself to be one of the listeners at the mount,—to know nothing 
of the customs of the present day, and to have no desire to justify 
them. 

“ Ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, 
Thou shalt not forswear thyself but shalt perform unto the Lord 
thine oaths. But I say unto you, Swear not at all: neither by 
heaven for it is God’s throne, nor by the earth for it is his foot¬ 
stool, neither by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. 
Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not 
make one hair white or black. But let your communication be 
yea yea, nay nay; for whatsoever is more than these, cometh of 
evil.” 1 

If a person should take a New Testament, and read these words 
to ten intelligent Asiatics who had never heard of them before, 
does any man believe that a single individual of them would think 
that the words did not prohibit all oaths ] I lay stress upon this 
consideration : if ten unbiassed persons would, at the first hearing, 
say the prohibition was universal, we have no contemptible argu¬ 
ment that that is the real meaning of the words. For to whom 
were the words addressed] Not to schoolmen, of whom it was 
known that they would make nice distinctions and curious inves¬ 
tigations ; not to men of learning, who were in the habit of 
cautiously weighing the import of words,—but to a multitude,—a 
mixed and unschooled multitude. It was to such persons that the 
prohibition was addressed; it was to such apprehensions that its 
form was adapted. 

“ It hath been said of old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself.” 
Why refer to what was said of old time ] For this reason 
assuredly; to point out that the present requisitions were different 
from the former; that what was prohibited now was different 
from what was prohibited before. And what was prohibited be¬ 
fore ] Swearing falsely, —Swearing and not performing . What 
then could be prohibited now ] Swearing truly, —Swearing, even, 
and performing : that is, swearing at all; for it is manifest that if 
truth may not be attested by an oath, no oath may be taken. Of 
old time it was said, “ Ye shall not swear by my name falsely!' 2 
“ If a man swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond, he shall not 
break his word.” 3 There could be no intelligible purpose in con¬ 
tradistinguishing the new precept from these, but to point out a 
1 Matt, v, 33—37, 2 Lev. xix, 12. 3 Numb. xxx. 2, 


Chap. 7 . 


MILTON. 


185 


characteristic difference; and there is no intelligible characteristic 
difference but that which denounces all oaths. Such were the 
views of the early Christians. “The old law,” says one of them, 
“ is satisfied with the honest keeping of the oath, but Christ cuts 
off the opportunity of perjury.” 1 In acknowledging that this pre¬ 
fatory reference to the former law, is in my view absolutely 
conclusive of our Christian duty, I would remark, as an extra¬ 
ordinary circumstance, that Dr. Paley, in citing the passage, 
omits this introduction and takes no notice of it in his argument. 

“ I say unto you, Swear not at all.” The words are absolute 
and exclusive. 

“ Neither by heaven, nor by the earth, nor by Jerusalem, nor by 
thy own head.” Respecting this enumeration it is said that it pro¬ 
hibits swearing by certain objects, but not by all objects. To which 
a sufficient answer is found in the parallel passage in James: 
“ Swear not,” he says; “neither by heaven, neither by the earth, 
neither by any other oath.” 2 This mode of prohibition, by which 
an absolute and universal rule is first proposed and then followed 
by certain examples of the prohibited things, is elsewhere employed 
in Scripture. “ Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Thou 
shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any 
thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or 
that is in the water under the earth.” 3 No man supposes that this 
after-enumeration was designed to restrict the obligation of the 
law,—Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Yet it were as 
reasonable to say that it was lawful to make idols in the form of 
imaginary monsters because they were not mentioned in the 
enumeration, as that it is lawful to swear any given kind of oath 
because it is not mentioned in the enumeration. Upon this part 
of the prohibition it is curious that two contradictory opinions are 
advanced by the defenders of oaths. The first class of reasoners 
says, The prohibition allows us to swear by the Deity, but disallows 
swearing by inferior things. The second class says, The prohibi¬ 
tion allows swearing by inferior things but disallows swearing by 
the Deity. Of the first class is Milton. The injunction, he says, 
“ does not prohibit us from swearing by the name of God,—we 
are only commanded not to swear by heaven, &c.” 4 But here 
again the Scripture itself furnishes a conclusive answer. It asserts 
that to swear by heaven is to swear by the Deity: “ He that shall 
1 Basil. 2 James v. 12. 3 Exod. xx. 3. See also xx. 4. 4 Christ. Doc. p. 582. 


186 


IMMORALITY OF OATHS. 


swear by heaven, sweareth by the throne of God, and by Him that 
sitteth thereon.” 1 To prohibit swearing by heaven, is therefore to 
prohibit swearing by God.—Amongst the second class is Dr. 
Paley. He says, “ On account of the relation which these things, 
[the heavens, the earth, &c.] bore to the Supreme Being, to swear 
by any of them was in effect and substance to swear by Him ; for 
which reason our Saviour says, Swear not at all; that is, neither 
directly by God nor indirectly by any thing related to him.” 2 But 
if we are thus prohibited from swearing by any thing related to 
Him, how happens it that Paley proceeds to justify judicial oaths 1 
Does not the judicial deponent swear by something related to 
God 1 Does he not swear by something much more nearly related 
than the earth or our own heads! Is not our hope of salvation 
more nearly related than a member of our bodies 1 —But after he 
has thus taken pains to show that swearing by the Almighty was 
especially forbidden, he enforces his general argument by saying 
that Christ did swear by the Almighty! He says that the high 
priest examined our Saviour upon oath, “by the living God;” 
which oath he took. This is wonderful; and the more wonderful 
because of these two arguments the one immediately follows the 
other. It is contended, within half a dozen lines, first that Christ 
forbad swearing by God, and next that he violated, his own com¬ 
mand. 

“But let your communication be yea yea, nay nay.” This is 
remarkable: it is positive superadded to negative commands. 
We are told not only what we ought not, but what we ought to 
do. It has indeed been said that the expression “ your communi¬ 
cation,” fixes the meaning to apply to the ordinary intercourse of 
life. But to this there is a fatal objection : the whole prohibition 
sets out with a reference not to conversational language but to 
solemn declarations on solemn occasions. Oaths, Oaths “ to the 
Lord,” are placed at the head of the passage; and it is too mani¬ 
fest to be insisted upon that solemn declarations, and not every 
day talk, were the subject of the prohibition. 

“Whatsoever is more than these, cometh of evil.” This is 
indeed most accurately true. Evil is the foundation of oaths : it 
is because men are bad that it is supposed oaths are needed: take 
away the wickedness of mankind, and we shall still have occasion 
for No and Yes, but we shall need nothing “more than these.” 

1 Matt, xxiii. 22. 2 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 16. 


Chap. 7 . 


HIGH PRIEST’S ADJURATION. 


187 


And this consideration furnishes a distinct motive to a good man 
to decline to swear. To take an oath is tacitly to acknowledge 
that this “evil” exists in his own mind,—that with him Christ¬ 
ianity has not effected its destined objects. 

From this investigation of the passage, it appears manifest that 
all swearing upon all occasions is prohibited. Yet the ordinary 
opinion, or rather perhaps the ordinary defence is, that the passage 
has no reference to judicial oaths.—“We explain our Saviour’s 
words to relate not to judicial oaths but to the practice of vain, 
wanton, and unauthorized swearing in common discourse.” To 
this we have just seen that there is one conclusive answer: our 
Saviour distinctly and -specifically mentions, as the subject of his 
instructions, solemn oaths. But there is another conclusive an¬ 
swer even upon our opponents’ own showing. They say first, 
that Christ described particular forms of oaths which might be 
employed, and next, that his precepts referred to wanton swear¬ 
ing ;—that is to say, that Christ described what particular forms 
of wanton swearing he allowed and what he disallowed! You 
cannot avoid this monstrous conclusion. If Christ spoke only of 
vain and wanton swearing, and if he described the modes that 
were lawful, he sanctioned wanton swearing provided we swear in 
the prescribed form. 

With such distinctness of evidence as to the universality of the 
prohibition of oaths by Jesus Christ, it is not in strictness neces¬ 
sary to refer to those passages in the Christian Scriptures which 
some persons adduce in favour of their employment. If Christ 
have prohibited them, nothing else can prove them to be right. 
Our reference to these passages will accordingly be short. 

“ I adjure thee by the living God that thou tell us whether thou 
be the Christ, the Son of God.” To those who allege that Christ, 
in answering to this “Thou hast said,” took an oath, a sufficient 
answer has already been intimated. If Christ then took an oath, 
he swore by the Deity, and this is precisely the very kind of oath 
which it is acknowledged he himself forbad. But wffiat imaginable 
reason could there be for examining him upon oath 1 Who ever 
heard of calling upon a prisoner to swear that he was guilty] 
Nothing was wanted but a simple declaration that he was the 
Son of God. With this view the proceeding was extremely 
natural. Finding that, to the less urgent solicitation he made no 
reply, the high priest proceeded to the more urgent. Schleusner 
expressly remarks upon the passage that the words, I adjure, do 


188 


EARLY CHRISTIANS. 


Essay 2 . 


not here mean “I make to swear or put upon oatli,” but, “I 
solemnly and in the name of God exhort and enjoin.” This is 
evidently the natural and the only natural meaning; just as it 
was the natural meaning when the evil spirit said, “ I adjure thee 
by the living God that thou torment me not.” The evil spirit 
surely did not administer an oath. 

“ God is my witness that without ceasing I make mention of 
you alwa}^s in my prayers.” 1 That the Almighty was witness to 
the subject of his prayers is most true; but to state this truth is 
not to swear. Neither this language nor that which is indicated 
below, contains the characteristics of an oath according to the de¬ 
finitions even of those who urge the expressions. None of them 
contain, according to Milton’s definition, “ a curse upon ourselves;” 
nor according to Paley’s, an “invocation of God’s vengeance.” 
Similar language but in a more emphatic form is employed in 
writing to the Corinthian converts. It appears from 2 Cor. ii. 
that Paul had resolved not again to go to Corinth in heaviness, 
lest he should make them sorry. And to assure them why he had 
made this resolution he says, “ I call God for a record upon my 
soul that to spare you I came not as yet unto Corinth.” In order 
to show this to be an oath, it will be necessary to show that the 
apostle imprecated the vengeance of God if he did not speak the 
truth. Who can show this !—The expression appears to me to 
be only an emphatical mode of saying, God is witness; or as the 
expression is sometimes employed in the present day, God knows 
that such was my endeavour or desire. 

The next and the last argument is of a very exceptionable 
class : it is founded upon silence. “ For men verily swear by the 
greater, and an oath for confirmation is to them an end of all 
strife.” 2 Respecting this it is said that it “speaks of the custom 
of swearing judicially without any mark of censure or disappro¬ 
bation.” Will it then be contended that whatever an apostle 
mentions without reprobating, he approves! The same apostle 
speaks just in the same manner of the pagan games; of running a 
race for prizes and of “ striving for the mastery.” Yet who would 
admit the argument that because Paul did not then censure the 
games, he thought them right! The existing customs both of 
swearing and of the games, are adduced merely by way of illus¬ 
tration of the writer’s subject. 

Respecting the lawfulness of oaths then as determined by the 
1 Rom. i. 9. See also 1 Thess. ii. 5. and Gal. i. 20. 2 Heb. vi. 16. 


FNEFFICACY OF OATHS. 


189 


Chap. 7. 


Christian Scriptures, how does the balance of evidence stand 1 On 
the one side, we have plain emphatical prohibitions,—prohibitions 
of which the distinctness is more fully proved the more they are 
investigated: on the other we have—counter precepts 1 No; it 
is not even pretended : but we have examples of the use of lan¬ 
guage of which it is saying much to say that it is doubtful whether 
they are oaths or not. How then w r ould the man of reason and of 
philosophy decide!—Many of the Christian fathers,” says Gro- 
tius, “condemned all oaths without exception.” 1 Grotius was 
himself an advocate of oaths. “I say nothing of perjury,” says 
Tertullian, “since swearing itself is unlawful to Christians.” 2 
Chrysostom says, “ Do not say to me, I swear for a just purpose: 
it is no longer lawful for thee to swear either justly or unjustly.” 3 
“He who,” says Gregory of Nysse, “has precluded murder by 
taking away anger, and who has driven away the pollution of 
adultery by subduing desire, has expelled from our life the curse 
of perjury by forbidding us to swear; for where there is no oath 
there can be no infringement of it.” 4 —Such is the conviction 
which the language of Christ conveyed to the early converts to his 
pure religion; and such is the conviction which I think it would 
convey to us, if custom had not familiarized us with the evil, and 
if we did not read the New Testament rather to find justifications 
of our practice, than to discover the truth and to apply it to our 
conduct. 


EFFICACY OF OATHS AS SECURITIES FOR VERACITY. 

Men naturally speak the truth unless they have some induce¬ 
ments to falsehood. When they have such inducements, what is 
it that overcomes them and still prompts them to speak the truth ? 

Considerations of duty founded upon religion : 

The apprehension of the ill opinion of other men: 

The fear of legal penalties. 

I. It is obvious that the intervention of an oath is designed to 
strengthen only the first of these motives,—that is, the religious 
sanction. I say to strengthen the religious sanction. No one 
supposes it creates that sanction; because people know that the 

1 Rights of War and Peace. 2 De Idol. cap. 11. 3 In Gen. ii. Horn. xv. 

4 In Cant. Horn. 13. 





190 


RELIGIOUS SANCTIONS. 


Essay 2 . 


sanction is felt to apply to falsehood as well as to perjury. The 
advantage of an oath then, if advantage there be, is in the 
increased 'power which it gives to sentiments of duty founded 
upon religion. Now it will he our endeavour to show that this 
increased power is small; that in fact the oath, as such, adds very 
little to the motives to veracity. What class of men will the 
reader select in order to illustrate its greatest power 1 

Good men 1 They will speak the truth, whether without an oath 
or with it. They know that God has appended to falsehood as to 
perjury the threat of his displeasure and of punishment in futurity. 
Upon them, religion possesses its rightful influence without the 
intervention of an oath. 

Bad men ] Men who care nothing for religion 1 They will care 
nothing for it though they take an oath. 

Men of ambiguous character ] Men on whom the sanctions of 
religion are sometimes operative and sometimes not 1 Perhaps it 
will be said that to these, the solemnity of an oath is necessary, to 
rouse their latent apprehensions and to hind them to veracity. 
But these persons do not go before a legal officer or into a court 
of justice as they go into a parlour or meet an acquaintance in the 
street. Recollection of mind is forced upon them by the circum¬ 
stances of their situation. The court, and the forms of law, and 
the audience, and the after publicity of the evidence, fix the 
attention even of the careless. The man of only occasional 
seriousness is serious then: and if, in their hours of seriousness, 
such persons regard the sanctions of religion, they will regard 
them in a court of justice though without an oath. 

Yet it may be supposed by the reader that the solemnity of a 
specific imprecation of the divine vengeance, would, nevertheless, 
frequently add stronger motives to adhere to truth. But what is 
the evidence of experience 1 After testimony has been given on 
affirmation, the parties are sometimes examined on the same sub¬ 
ject upon oath. Now Pothier says, “ In forty years of practice, I 
have only met two instances where the parties in the case of an 
oath offered after evidence, have been prevented by a sense of 
religion from persisting in their testimonies.” Two instances in 
forty years: and even with respect to these it is to he remem¬ 
bered, that one great reason why simple affirmations do not bind 
men, is that their obligation is artificially diminished (as we shall 
presently see) by the employment of oaths. To the evidence 


Chap. 7 . 


LEGAL PENALTIES. 


191 


resulting from these truths I know of but one limitary considera¬ 
tion ; and to this the reader must attach such weight as he thinks 
it deserves,—that a man on whom an oath had been originally 
imposed might then have been bound to veracity, who would not 
incur the shame of having lied by refusing afterwards to confirm 
his falsehoods with an oath. 

II. The next inducement to adhere to truth is the apprehension 
of the ill opinion of others. And this inducement, either in its 
direct or indirect operation, will be found to be incomparably more 
powerful than that religious inducement which is applied by an 
oath as such. Not so much because religious sanctions are less 
operative than public opinion, as because public opinion applies or 
detaches the religious sanction. Upon this subject a serious mis¬ 
take has been made; for it has been contended that the influence 
of religious motives is comparatively nothing,—that unless men 
are impelled to speak the truth by fear of disgrace or of legal 
penalties, they care very little for the sanctions of religion. But 
the truth is, that the sanctions of religion are in a great degree 
either brought into operation, or prevented from operating, by 
these secondary motives. Religious sanctions necessarily follow 
the judgments of the mind : if a man by any means becomes con¬ 
vinced that a given action is wrong, the religious obligation to 
refrain from it follows. Now the judgments of men respecting 
right and wrong are very powerfully affected by public opinion. 
It Commonly happens that that which a man has been habitually 
taught to think wrong, he does think -wrong. Men are thus taught 
by public opinion. So that if the public attach disgrace to any 
species of mendacity or perjury, the religious sanction will com¬ 
monly apply to that species. If there are instances of mendacity 
or perjury to which public disapprobation does not attach,—to 
those instances the religious sanction will commonly not apply, or 
apply but weakly. The power of public opinion in binding to 
veracity is therefore two-fold. It has its direct influence arising 
from the fear which all men feel of the disapprobation of others, 
and the indirect influence arising from the fact that public opinion 
applies the sanctions of religion. 

III. Of the influence of legal penalties in binding to veracity, 
little needs to be said. It is obvious that if they induce men to 
refrain from theft and violence, they will induce men to refrain 
from perjury. But it may be remarked, that the legal penalty 



192 


INEFFICIENCY OF OATHS. 


Essay 2 . 


tends to give vigour and efficiency to public opinion. He whom 
the law punishes as a criminal, is generally regarded as a criminal 
by the world. 

Now that which we affirm is this,—that unless public opinion 
or legal penalties enforce veracity, very little will be added by an 
oath to the motives to veracity more than would subsist in the 
case of simple affirmation. The observance of the Oxford sta¬ 
tutes 1 is promised by the members on oath,—yet no one observes 
them. They swear to observe them, they imprecate the divine 
vengeance if they do not observe them, and yet they disregard 
them every day. The oath then is of no avail. An oath, as 
such, does not here bind men’s consciences. And why 1 Because 
those sanctions by which men’s consciences are bound, are not 
applied. The law applies none: public opinion applies none : 
and therefore the religious sanction is weak; too weak with most 
men to avail. Not that no motives founded upon religion present 
themselves to the mind; for I doubt not there are good men who 
would refuse to take these oaths simply in consequence of religious 
motives: but constant experience shows that these men are com¬ 
paratively few; and if any one should say that upon them an oath 
is influential, we answer, that they are precisely the very persons 
who would be bound by their simple promises without an oath. 

The oaths of Jurymen afford another instance. Jurymen swear 
that they will give a verdict according to the evidence, and yet it 
is perfectly well known that they often assent to a verdict which 
they believe to be contrary to that evidence. They do not all 
coincide in the verdict which the foreman pronounces, it is indeed 
often impossible that they should coincide. This perjury is com¬ 
mitted by multitudes : yet what juryman cares for it, or refuses, in 
consequence of his oath, to deliver a verdict which he believes to 
be improper ] The reason that they do not care is, that the oath 
as such does not bind their consciences. It stands alone. The 
public do not often reprobate the violation of such oaths; the law’ 
does not punish it; jurymen learn to think that it is no harm to 
violate them; and the resulting conclusion is, that the form of an 
oath cannot and does not supply the deficiency;—It cannot and 
does not apply the religious sanction. 

Step a few yards from the jury box to the witness box, and you 
see the difference. There public opinion interposes its power,— 

1 See p. 328. 




Chap. 7 . 


INEFFICIENCY OF OATHS. 


193 


there the punishment of perjury impends,—there the religious 
sanction is applied,—and there, consequently, men regard the 
truth. If the simple intervention of an oath was that which bound 
men to veracity, they would be bound in the jury box as much as 
at ten feet off: but it is not. 

A custom-house oath is nugatory even to a proverb. Yet it is 
an oath : yet the swearer does stake his salvation upon his 
veracity; and still his veracity is not secured. Why? Because 
an oath, as such, applies to the minds of most men little" or no 
motive to veracity. They do not in fact think that their salvation 
is staked, necessarily, by oaths. They think it is either staked or 
not, according to certain other circumstances quite independent of 
the oath itself. These circumstances are not associated with cus¬ 
tom-house oaths, and therefore they do not avail. Churchwardens’ 
oaths are of the same kind. Upon these, Gisborne remarks.— 
“ In the successive execution of the office of churchwarden, almost 
every man above the rank of a day labourer, in every parish in the 
kingdom, learns to consider the strongest sanction of truth as a 
nugatory form.” This is not quite accurate. They do not learn 
to consider the strongest sanction of truth as a nugatory form, but 
they learn to consider oaths as a nugatory form. The reality is, 
that the sanctions of truth are not brought into operation, and that 
oattas, as such, do not bring them into operation. 

We return then to our proposition,—Unless public opinion or 
legal penalties enforce veracity, very little is added by an oath to 
the motives to veracity, more than would subsist in the case of 
simple affirmation. 

It is obvious that the legislature might, if it pleased, attach the 
same penalties to falsehood as it now attaches to perjury; and 
therefore all the motives to veracity which are furnished by the 
law in the case of oaths, might be equally furnished in the case of 
affirmation. This is in fact done by the legislature in the case of 
the Society of Friends. 

It is also obvious that public opinion might be applied to 
affirmation much more powerfully than it is now. The simple 
circumstance of disusing oaths would effect this. Even now, 
when the public disapprobation is excited against a man who has 
given false evidence in a court of justice, by what is it excited ? 
by his having broken his oath, or by his having given false testi¬ 
mony ? It is the falsehood which excites the disapprobation, 


o 


194 


PARLIAMENTARY EVIDENCE. 


Essay 2 . 


much more than the circumstance that the falsehood was in spite 
of an oath. This public disapprobation is founded upon the general 
perception of the guilt of false testimony and of its perniciousness. 
Now if affirmation only was employed, this public disapprobation 
would follow the lying witness, as it now follows, or nearly as it 
now follows, the perjured witness. Every thing but the mere oath 
would be the same,—the fear of penalties, the fear of disgrace, the 
motives of religion, would remain; and we have just shown how 
little a mere oath avails. But we have artificially diminished the 
public reprobation of lying by establishing oaths. The tendency 
of instituting oaths is manifestly to diffuse the sentiment that there 
is a difference in the degree of obligation not to lie, and not to 
swear falsely. This difference is made, not so much by adding 
stronger motives to veracity by an oath, as by deducting from the 
motives to veracity in simple affirmations. Let the public opinion 
take its own healthful and unobstructed course, and falsehood in 
evidence will quickly be regarded as a flagrant offence. Take 
away oaths, and the public reprobation of falsehood will imme¬ 
diately increase in power, and will bring with its increase an 
increasing efficiency in the religious sanction. The present rela¬ 
tive estimate of lying and perjury is a very inaccurate standard 
by which to judge of the efficiency of oaths. We have artificially 
reduced the abhorrence of lying, and then say that that abhorrence 
is not great enough to bind men to the truth. 

Our reasoning then proceeds by these steps. Oaths are de¬ 
signed to apply a strong religious sanction: they however do not 
apply it unless they are seconded by the apprehension of penalties 
or disgrace. The apprehension of penalties and disgrace may be 
attached to falsehood, and with this apprehension the religious 
sanction will also be attached to it. Therefore, all those motives 
which bind men to veracity may be applied to falsehood as well as 
to oaths.—In other words, oaths are needless. 

But in reality we have evidence of this needlessness from every 
day experience. In some of the most important of temporal affairs, 
an oath is never used. The Houses of Parliament in their exami¬ 
nations of witnesses employ no oaths. They are convinced (and 
therefore they have proved) that the truth can be discovered 
without them. But if affirmation is thus a sufficient security for 
veracity in the great questions of a legislature, how can it be 
insufficient in the little questions of private life 1 There is a 




UNITED STATES. 


195 


Chap. 7. 


strange inconsistency here. That same parliament which declares, 
by its every day practice, that oaths are needless, continues by its 
every day practice, to impose them! Even more: those very 
men who themselves take oaths as a necessary qualification for 
their duties as legislators, proceed to the exercise of these duties 
upon the mere testimony of other men!—Peers are never required 
to take oaths in delivering their testimony, yet no one thinks that 
a peer’s evidence in a court of justice may not be as much 
depended upon as that of him who swears. Why are peers in 
fact bound to veracity though without an oath? Will you say 
that the religious sanction is more powerful upon lords than upon 
other men ? The supposition were ridiculous. How then does it 
happen? You reply, Their honour binds them: Very well; that 
is the same as to say that public opinion binds them. But then, 
he who says that honour, or any thing else besides pure religious 
sanctions, binds men to veracity, impugns the very grounds upon 
which oaths are defended. 

Oath evidence again is not required by courts martial. But 
can any man assign a reason why a person who would speak the 
truth on affirmation before military officers, would not speak it on 
affirmation before a judge ? Arbitrations too proceed often, per¬ 
haps generally, upon evidence of parole. Yet do not arbitrators 
discover the truth as well as courts of justice ? and if they did not, 
it would be little in favour of oaths, because a part of the sanction 
of veracity is, in the case of arbitrations, withdrawn. 

But we have even tried the experiment of affirmations in our 
own courts of justice, and tried it for some ages past. The Society 
of Friends uniformly give their evidence in courts of law on their 
words alone. No man imagines that their words do not bind 
them. No legal court would listen with more suspicion to a wit¬ 
ness because he was a Quaker. Here all the motives to veracity 
are applied: there is the religious motive, which in such cases all 
but desperately bad men feel: there is the motive of public opi¬ 
nion: and there is the motive arising from the penalties of the 
law. If the same motives were applied to other men, why should 
they not be as effectual in securing veracity as they are upon the 
Quakers ? 

We have an example even yet more extensive. In all the 
courts of the United States of America, no one is obliged to take 
an oath. What are we to conclude? Are the Americans so 




196 


EFFECTS OF OATHS.—GODWIN.—SOLON. Essay 2. 


foolish a people that they persist in accepting affirmations, know¬ 
ing that they do not bind witnesses to truth? Or, do the 
Americans really find that affirmations are sufficient? But one 
answer can be given:—They find that affirmations are sufficient: 
they prove undeniably that oaths are needless. No one will 
imagine that virtue on the other side the Atlantic is so much 
greater than on this, that while an affirmation is sufficient for an 
American an oath is necessary here. 

So that whether we inquire into the moral lawfulness of oaths, 
they are not lawful; or into their practical utility, they are of little 
use or of none. 


EFFECTS OF OATHS. 

There is a power and efficacy in our religion which elevates 
those who heartily accept it above that low moral state in which 
alone an oath can even be supposed to be of advantage. The man 
who takes an oath, virtually declares that his word would not bind 
him; and this is an admission which no good man should make,— 
for the sake both of his own moral character and of the credit 
of religion itself. It is the testimony even of infidelity, that 
“ wherever men of uncommon energy and dignity of mind have 
existed, they have felt the degradation of binding their assertions 
with an oath.” 1 This degradation, this descent from the proper 
ground on which a man of integrity should stand, illustrates the 
proposition that whatever exceeds affirmation “cometh of evil.” 
The evil origin is so palpable that you cannot comply with the 
custom without feeling that you sacrifice the dignity of virtue. It 
is related of Solon that he said, “ A good man ought to be in that 
estimation that he needs not an oath; because it is to be reputed 
a lessening of his honour if he be forced to swear.” 2 If to take an 
oath, lessened a pagan’s honour, what must be its effect upon a 
Christian’s purity. 

Oaths, at least the system of oaths which obtains in this country, 
tends powerfully to deprave the moral character. We have seen 
that they are continually violated,—that men are continually 
referring to the most tremendous sanctions of religion with the 
habitual belief that those sanctions impose no practical obligation. 

1 Godwin: Political Justice, v. 2, p. 633. 2 Stobceus: Serm. 3. 




Chap. 7 . 


OATHS PROMOTE FALSEHOOD. 


197 


Can this have any other tendency than to diminish the influence 
of religious sanctions upon other things ? If a man sets light by 
the divine vengeance in the jury box to-day, is he likely to give 
full weight to that vengeance before a magistrate to-morrow? 
We cannot prevent the effects of habit. Such things will infallibly 
deteriorate the moral character, because they infallibly diminish 
the power of those principles upon which the moral character is 
founded. 

Oaths encourage falsehood. We have already seen that the 
effect of instituting oaths is to diminish the practical obligation of 
simple affirmation. The law says, You must speak the truth 
when you are upon your oath; which is the same thing as to say 
that it is less harm to violate truth when you are not on your oath. 
The court sometimes reminds a witness that he is upon oath, which 
is equivalent to saying, If you were not, we should think less of 
your mendacity. The same lesson is inculcated by the assignation 
of penalties to perjury and not to falsehood. What is a man to 
conclude, but that the law thinks light of the crime which it does 
not punish; and that since he may lie with impunity, it is not 
much harm to lie? Common language bears testimony to the 
effect. The vulgar phrase, I will take my oath to it, clearly 
evinces the prevalent notion that a man may lie with less guilt 
when he does not take his oath. No answer can be made to this 
remark, unless any one can show that the extra sanction of an oath 
is so much added to the obligation which would otherwise attach 
to simple affirmation. And who can show this? Experience 
proves the contrary : “ Experience bears ample testimony to the 
fact, that the prevalence of oaths among men (christians not 
excepted) has produced a very material and very general effect in 
reducing their estimate of the obligation of plain truth, in its 
natural and simple forms.” 1 —“ There is no cause of insincerity, 
prevarication, and falsehood, more powerful than the practice of 
administering oaths in a court of justice.” 2 

Upon this subject the legislator plays a desperate game against 
the morality of a people. He wishes to make them speak the 
truth when they undertake an office or deliver evidence. Even 
supposing him to succeed, what is the cost ? That of diminish¬ 
ing the motives to veracity in all the affairs of life. A man 
may not be called upon to take an oath above two or three 
1 Gurney: Observations, &c. c. x. 2 Godwin: v. 2, p. 634. 


198 GENERAL OBLIGATIONS. Essay 2. 

times in his life, but he is called upon to speak the truth every 
day. 

A few, but a few serious, words remain. The investigations of 
this chapter are not matters to employ speculation but to influence 
our practice. If it be indeed true that Jesus Christ has impera¬ 
tively forbidden us to employ an oath, a duty, an imperative duty 
is imposed upon us. It is worse than merely vain to hear his 
laws unless we obey them. Of him therefore who is assured of 
the prohibition, it is indispensably required that he should refuse 
an oath. There is no other means of maintaining our allegiance to 
God. Our pretensions to Christian^ are at stake: for he who, 
knowing the Christian law, will not conform to it, is certainly not 
a Christian. How then does it happen, that although persons fre¬ 
quently acknowledge they think oaths are forbidden, so few, when 
they are called upon to swear, decline to do it 1 Alas, this offers 
one evidence amongst the many, of the want of uncompromising 
moral principles in the world,—of such principles as it has been 
the endeavour of these pages to enforce,—of such principles as 
would prompt us and enable us to sacrifice every thing to Christian 
fidelity. By what means do the persons of whom we speak sup¬ 
pose that the will of God respecting oaths is to be effected? To 
whose practice do they look for an exemplification of the Christian 
standard ] Do they await some miracle by which the whole world 
shall be convinced and oaths shall be abolished without the agency 
of man ? Such are not the means by which it is the pleasure of 
the Universal Lord to act. He effects his moral purposes by the 
instrumentality of faithful men. Where are these faithful men ?— 
But let it be : if those who are called to this fidelity refuse, theirs 
will be the dishonour and the offence. But the work will even¬ 
tually be done. Other and better men will assuredly arise to 
acquire the Christian honour and to receive the Christian reward. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE MORAL CHARACTER, OBLIGATIONS, AND EFFECTS OF 
PARTICULAR OATHS. 

SUBSCRIPTION TO ARTICLES OF RELIGION. 

In reading the paragraphs which follow respecting several of 
the specific oaths which are imposed in this country, the reader 
should remember, that the evils with which they are attended 
would almost equally attend affirmations in similar circumstances. 
Our object therefore is less to illustrate their nature as oaths, than 
as improper and vicious engagements. With respect to the inter¬ 
pretation of a particular oath, it is obviously to be determined by 
the same rule as that of promises. A man must fulfil his oath in 
that sense in which he knows the imposer designs and expects 
him to fulfil it. And he must endeavour to ascertain what the 
imposer’s expectation is. To take an oath in voluntary ignorance 
of the obligations which it is intended to impose, and to excuse 
ourselves for disregarding them because we do not know what 
they are, cannot surely be right. Yet it is often difficult, some¬ 
times impossible, to discover what an oath requires. The absence 
of precision in the meaning of terms, the alteration of general 
usages whilst the forms of oaths remain the same, and the original 
want of explicitness of the forms themselves, throw sometimes 
insuperable obstacles in the way of discovering, when a man takes 
an oath, what it is that he binds himself to do. This is manifestly 
a great evil: and it is chargeable primarily upon the custom of 
exacting oaths at all. It is in general a very difficult thing to 
frame an unobjectionable oath,—an oath which shall neither be so 
lax as to become nugatory by easiness of evasion and uncertainty 
of meaning, nor so rigid as to demand in words more than the 
imposer wishes to exact, and thus to ensnare the consciences of 
those who take it. The same objections would apply to forms of 
affirmation. The only effectual remedy is to diminish, or if it 



200 VAGUENESS OF THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. Essay 2. 


were possible to abolish, the custom of requiring men to promise 
beforehand to pursue a certain course of action. How is nonful¬ 
filment of these engagements punished ? By fine, or imprisonment, 
or some other mode of penalty 1 Let the penalty, let the sanction 
remain, without the promise or the oath. A man swears alle¬ 
giance to a prince: if he becomes a traitor he is punished, not for 
the breach of his oath but for his treason. Can you not punish 
his treason without the oath ? A man swears he has not received 
a bribe at an election. If he does receive one, you send him to 
prison. You could as easily send him thither if he had not sworn. 
You reply, — But, by imposing the oath we bind the swearer’s 
conscience. Alas! we have seen and we shall presently again see, 
that this plan of binding men is of little effect. There is one kind 
of affirmation that appears to involve absurdity. I mean that by 
which a man affirms that he will speak the truth. Of what use is 
the affirmation ? The affirmant is not bound to veracity more than 
he was before he made it. It is no greater lie to speak falsely 
after an affirmation than before. 

Oath of Allegiance. “I do sincerely promise and swear 
that I will be faithful, and bear true allegiance, to his Majesty 
King George.” — On the propriety of exacting these political oaths 
we shall offer some observations in the next Essay. 1 At present 
we ask, What does the oath of allegiance mean 1 Set a hundred 
men each to write an exact account of what the party here pro¬ 
mises to do, and I will undertake to affirm that not one in the 
hundred will agree with any other individual. “ I will be faith¬ 
ful What is meant by being faithful ? What is the extent of 
the obligation, and what are its limits ? “I will bear true alle¬ 
giance:” What does allegiance mean! Is it synonj^mous with 
fidelity ? Or does it embrace a wider extent of obligation, or a 
narrower? And if either, how is the extent ascertained?—The 
oath was, I believe, made purposely indefinite: the old oath of 
allegiance was more discriminative. But no form can discriminate 
the duty of a citizen to his rulers—unless you make it consist of a 
political treatise; and no man can write a treatise with definitions 
to which all would subscribe. The truth is that no one knows 
what the oath of allegiance requires. Paley attempts, in six 
separate articles, to define its meaning : one of which definitions 
is, that “ the oath excludes all design at the time of attempting to 
1 Essay III., ch. 5. 



Chap. 8 . 


PERJURY IN EVIDENCE. 


201 


depose the reigning prince.” 1 At the time! Why the oath is 
couched in the future tense. Its express purpose is to obtain a 
security for future conduct. The swearer declares, not what he 
then designs, but what, in time to come, he will do.—Another 
definition is, “ it permits resistance to the king when his ill beha¬ 
viour or imbecility is such as to make resistance beneficial to the 
community.” 2 But how or in what manner “ fidelity and true 
allegiance” means “ resistance,” casuistry only can tell. We may 
rest assured that after all attempts at explanation, the meaning of 
the oath will be, at the least, as doubtful as before. Nor is there 
any remedy. The fault is not in the form, for no form can be good ; 
but in the imposition of any oath of allegiance. The only means 
of avoiding the evil is by abolishing the oath. Besides, what do 
oaths of allegiance avail in those periods of disturbance in which 
princes are commonly displaced 1 What revolution has been pre¬ 
vented by oaths of allegiance 1 

Yet if the oath does no good, it does harm. It is always doing 
harm to exact promises from men, who cannot know beforehand 
whether they will fulfil them. And as to the ambiguity, it is 
always doing harm to require men to stake their salvation upon 
doing — they know not what. 

Oath in evidence. “The truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
but the truth, touching the matter in question.” Is the witness to 
understand by this that if he truly answers all questions that are 
put to him, he conforms to the requisitions of the oath ] If he is, 
the terms of the oath are very exceptionable ; for many a witness 
may give true answers to a counsel and yet not tell “ the whole 
truth.” Or does the oath bind him to give an exact narrative of 
every particular connected with the matter in question whether 
asked or not ] If it does, multitudes commit perjury. How then 
.shall a witness act! Shall he commit perjury by withholding all 
information but that which is asked] Or shall he be ridiculed 
and perhaps silenced in court for attempting to narrate all that he 
has sworn to disclose ] Here again the morality of the people is 
injuriously affected. To take an oath to do a certain prescribed 
act, and then*to do only just that which custom happens to pre¬ 
scribe, is to ensnare the conscience and practically to diminish the 
sanctions of veracity. The evil may be avoided either by disusing 
all previous promises to speak the truth, or to adapt the terms of 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. I, c. 18. 2 Id. 



202 PROFANENESS OF MILITARY OATH. Essay 2. 

the promise (if that can be done) to the duties which the law or 
which custom expects. “ You shall true answer make to all such 
questions as shall be asked of you,” is the form when a person is 
sworn upon a voir dire ; and if this is all that the law expects 
when he is giving evidence, why not use the same form] If 
however, in deference to the reasonings against the use of any 
oaths, the oath in evidence were abolished, no difficulty could 
remain: for to promise in any form to speak the truth, is as we 
have seen, absurd. 

Whilst the oath in evidence continues to be imposed, it is not 
an easy task to determine in what sense the witness should 
understand it. If you decide by the meaning of the legislature 
which imposed the oath, it appears manifest that he should tell all 
he knows whether asked or not. But what, it may be asked, is 
the meaning of a law, but that which the authorized expounders of 
the law determine ] And if they habitually admit an interpreta¬ 
tion at variance with the terms of the oath, is not their sanction 
an authoritative explanation of the legislature’s meaning] These 
are questions which I pretend not with confidence to determine. 
The mischiefs which result from the uncertainty are to be charged 
upon the legislatures which do not remove the evil. I would 
however suggest that the meaning of a form in such cases is to be 
sought, not so much in the meaning of the original imposers, as in 
that of those who now sanction the form by permitting it to exist. 
This doubtless opens wide the door to extreme licentiousness of 
interpretation. Nor can that door be closed. There is no other 
remedial measure than an alteration of the forms or an abolition of 
the oath. 

Military oath. “ I swear to obey the orders of the officers 
who are set over me: So help me God.” And suppose an officer 
orders him to do something which morality forbids,—his oath then 
stands thus: “ I swear to obey man rather than God.” The pro¬ 
faneness is shocking. Will any extenuation be offered, and will 
it be said that the military man only swears to obey the virtuous 
orders of his superior] We deny the fact: the oath neither 
means nor is intended to mean, any such thing. It may indeed 
by possibility happen that an officer may order his inferior to do a 
thing which a court martial would not punish him for refusing to 
do. But if the law intends to allow such exceptions, what excuse 
is there for making the terms of the oath absolute] Is it not 



203 


Chap. 8. INEFFICIENCY OF BRIBERY OATH. 

teaching military men to swear they care not what, thus to make 
the terms of the oath one thing and its meaning another ] But 
the real truth is, that neither the law nor courts martial allow any 
such limitations in the meaning of the oath as will bring it within 
the limits of morality, or of even a decent reverence to Him who 
commands morality to man. They do not intend to allow the 
Moral Law to be the primary rule to the soldier. They intend 
the contrary: and the soldier does actually swear that if he is 
ordered so to do, he will violate the law of God. Of this impiety 
what is the use 1 Does any one imagine that a soldier obeys his 
superiors because he has sworn to obey them 1 It were ridiculous. 
When courts martial inflict a punishment, they inflict it not for 
perjury but for disobedience. 

I would devote two or three sentences to the observation that 
the military oath is sui generis. So far at least as my information 
extends, no other oath is imposed which promises unconditional 
obedience to other men; no other oath exists by which a man 
binds himself to violate the laws of God. Why does the military 
oath thus stand alone, the explicit contemner of the obligations of 
morality 1 —Because it belongs to a custom which itself contemns 
morality. Because it belongs to a custom which “ repeals all the 
principles of virtue.” Because it belongs to War.—-There is a 
lesson couched in this, which he who has ears to hear will find to 
be pregnant with instruction. 

Oath against bribery at elections. “I do swear I have 
not received, or had, by myself or any person whatsoever in trust 
for me, or for my use and benefit, directly or indirectly, any sum 
or sums of money; office, place or employment; gift or reward; 
or any promise or security for any money, office, employment, or 
gift, in order to give my vote at this election.” This is an attempt 
to secure incorruptness by extreme accuracy in framing the oath. 
With what success, public experience tells. No bribery oath will 
prevent bribery. It wants efficient sanctions,—punishment by the 
law or reprobation by the public. A man who possesses a vote 
in a close borough, and whose neighbours and their fathers have 
habitually pocketed a bribe at every election, is very little under 
the influence of public opinion. That public with which he is 
connected, does not reprobate the act, and he learns to imagine it 
is of little moral turpitude. As to legal penalties, they are too 
unfrequently inflicted or too difficult of infliction to be of much 




204 OATH AGAINST SIMONY. Essay 2 . 

avail. Why then is this nursery of perjury continued] Which 
action should we most deprecate, that of the voter who perjures 
himself for a ten pound note, or that of the legislator who so tempts 
him to perjury by imposing an oath which he knows will be 
violated ] If bribery be wrong, punish it; but it is utterl}* inde¬ 
fensible to exact oaths which every body knows will be broken. 
Not indeed that any thing in the present state of the representation 
will prevent bribery. We may multiply oaths and denounce 
penalties without end, yet bribery will still prevail. But though 
bribery be inseparable from the system, perjury is not. We 
should abolish one of the evils if we do not or cannot abolish 
both. 

As to those endless contrivances by which electors avoid the 
arm of the law, and hope to avoid the guilt of perjury, they are, as 
it respects guilt, all and always vain. The intention of the legis¬ 
lature was to prevent bribery , and he who is bribed, violates his 
oath whether he violates its literal terms or not. The shopkeeper 
who sells a yard of cloth to a candidate for twenty pounds, is just 
as truly bribed, and he just as truly commits perjury, as if the 
candidate had said, I give you this twenty pound note to tempt 
you to vote for me. These men may evade legal penalties ; there 
is a power which they cannot evade. 

Oath against simony. The substance of the oath is, “I do 
swear that I have made no simoniacal payment for obtaining this 
ecclesiastical place. So help me God through Jesus Christ!” 
The patronage of livings, that is, the legal right to give a man the 
ecclesiastical income of a parish, ma}~, like other propert} 7 , be 
bought and sold. But though a person may legally sell the power 
of giving the income, he may not sell the income itself; the reason 
it ma}^ be presumed being, that a person who can only give the 
income, will be more likely to bestow it upon such a clergyman as 
deserves it, than if he sold it to the highest bidder. It may how¬ 
ever be observed in passing, that the security for the judicious 
presentation of church preferment is extremely imperfect; for the 
law, whilst it tries to take care that preferment shall be properly 
bestowed, takes no care that the power of bestowing it shall be 
entrusted to proper hands. The least virtuous man or woman in 
a district may possess this power ; and it were vain to expect that 
they will be very solicitous to assign careful shepherds to the 
Christian flocks. 



Chap. 8. USELESSNESS OF UNIVERSITY OATHS. 


205 


To prevent the income from being bought and sold, the law 
requires the acceptor of a living to swear that he has made no 
simoniacal payment for it. What then is simony? To answer 
this question the clergyman must have recourse to the definitions 
of the law. Simony is of various kinds, and the clergyman who 
is under strong temptation to make some contract with, or payment 
to the patron, is manifestly in danger of making them in the fear¬ 
ing, doubting, hope, that they are not simoniacal. And so he 
makes the arrangement, hardly knowing whether he has com¬ 
mitted simony and perjury or not. This evil is seen and acknow¬ 
ledged: “The oath,” says a dignitary of the church, “lays a 
snare for the integrity of the clergy; and I do not perceive that 
the requiring of it, in cases of private patronage, produces any 
good effect sufficient to compensate for this danger.” 

University Oaths. The various statutes of colleges, of which 
every member is obliged to promise the observance on oath, are 
become wholly or partly obsolete ; some are needless and absurd, 
some illegal, and to some, perhaps, it is impossible to conform. 
Yet the oath to perform them is constantly taken. A man swears 
that he will speak, within the college, no language but Latin; and 
he speaks English in it every day. He swears he will employ so 
many hours out of every twenty-four in disputations; and does 
not dispute for days or weeks together. What remains then for 
those who take these oaths to do ? To show that this is not per¬ 
jury. Here is. the field for casuistry; Here is the field in which 
ingenuity may exhibit its adroitness! in which sophistry may de¬ 
light to range! in which Duns Scotus, if he were again in the 
world, might rejoice to be a combatant!—And what do Ingenuity, 
and Casuistry, and Sophistry do 1 Oh! they discover consolatory 
truths; they discover that if the act which you promise to perform 
is unlawful, you may swear to perform it with an easy conscience; 
they discover that there is no harm in swearing to jump from 
Dover to Calais, because it is “impracticable;” they discover 
that it is quite proper to swear to do a foolish thing because it 
would be “ manifestly inconvenient” and “ prejudicial” to do it.— 
In a word, they discover so many agreeable things that if the book 
of Cervantes were appended to the oath, they might swear to 
imitate all the deeds of his hero, and yet remain quietly and inno¬ 
cently in a college all their lives. 

That nothing can be said in extenuation of those who take 


206 


USELESSNESS OF UNIVERSITY OATHS. Essay 2. 


these oaths, cannot be affirmed; yet that the taking them is wrong, 
every man who simply consults his own heart will know. Even 
if they were wrong upon no other ground they would be so upon 
this—that if men were conscientious enough to refuse to take them, 
the “necessity” for taking them would soon be withdrawn. No 
man questions that these oaths are a scandal to religion and to 
religious men; no man questions that their tendency is to make 
the public think lightly of the obligation of an oath. They ought 
therefore to be abolished. It is imperative upon the legislature to 
abolish them, and it is imperative upon the individual, by refusing 
to take them, to evince to the legislature the necessity for its 
interference. Nothing is wanted but that private Christians should 
maintain Christian fidelity. If they did do this, and refused to 
take these oaths, the legislature would presently do its duty. It 
needs not be feared that it would suffer the doors of the colleges to 
be locked up, because students were too conscientious to swear 
falsely. Thus, although the obligation upon the legislature is 
manifest, it possesses some semblance of an excuse for refraining 
from reform, since those who are immediately aggrieved, and who 
are the immediate agents of the offence, are so little concerned 
that they do not address even a petition for interference. That 
some good men feel aggrieved, is scarcely to be doubted: let these 
remember their obligations: let them remember, that compliance 
entails upon posterity the evil and the offence, and sets, for the 
integrity of successors, a perpetual snare. 

It is an unhappy reflection that men endeavour rather to pacify 
the misgiving voice of conscience under a continuance of the evil, 
than exert themselves to remove it. Unschooled persons will 
always think that the usage is wrong. In truth, even after the 
licentious interpretations of the oaths have been resorted to,—after 
it has been shown what he who takes them does not promise, 
what imaginable security is there that he will perform that which 
he does promise,—that he will even know what he promises] 
None. Being himself the interpreter of the oath, and having 
resolved that the oath does not mean what it says, he is at liberty 
to think that it means any thing; or, which I suppose is the prac¬ 
tical opinion, that it means nothing.—If we would remove the evil 
we must abolish the oath. 



Chap. 8. 


ARTICLES OF RELIGION. 


207 


SUBSCRIPTION TO ARTICLES OF RELIGION. 

Bishop Clayton said, “ I do not only doubt whether the com¬ 
pilers of the Articles, but even whether any two thinking men, 
ever agreed exactly in their opinion, not only with regard to all 
the Articles but even with regard to any one of them.” 1 Such is 
the character of that series of Propositions in which a man is 
required to declare his belief before he can become a minister in a 
Christian community. The event may easily be foreseen: some 
will refuse to subscribe; some will subscribe though it violates 
their consciences; some will subscribe regardless whether it be 
right or wrong; and some of course will be found to justify 
subscription. 

Of those who on moral grounds refuse to subscribe to that which 
they do not believe, it may be presumed that they are conscientious 
men,—men who prefer sacrificing their interests to their duties. 
These are the men whom every Christian church should especially 
desire to retain in its communion; and these are precisely the 
men whom the Articles exclude from the English church. 

As it respects those who perceive the impropriety of subscription 
and yet subscribe, whose consciences are wronged by the very 
act which introduces them into the church,—the evil is manifest 
and great. Chillingworth declared to Shelden that “if he sub¬ 
scribed, he subscribed his own damnation,” yet not long afterwards 
Chillingworth was induced to subscribe. Unhappy, that they 
who are about to preach virtue to others, should be initiated by a 
violation of the Moral Law! 

With respect to those who subscribe heedlessly and without 
regard to their belief or disbelief of the Articles,—of what use is 
subscription 1 It is designed to operate as a test, but what test is 
it to him who would set his name to the Articles if they were 
exactly the contrary of what they are? If conscientiousness 
keeps some men out of the church, the want of conscientiousness 
lets others in. The contrivance is admirably adapted to an end; 
but to what end 1 To the separation of the more virtuous from the 
less, and to the admission of the latter. 

A reader who was a novice in these affairs would ask, in 

1 Confessional, 3rd Ed. p. 246. 



208 


STATUTE OF 13th ELIZ. 


Essay 2. 


wonder, For what purpose is subscription exacted ! If the Articles 
are so objectionable, and if subscription is productive of so much 
evil, why are not the Articles revised, or why is subscription 
required at all ? These are reasonable questions. They involve, 
however, political considerations; and in the Political Essay we 
hope to give such an inquirer satisfaction respecting them. 

And with respect to the justifications that are offered of sub¬ 
scribing to doctrines which are not believed, it is manifest, that 
they must set out with the assumption that the words of the 
Articles mean nothing,-—-that we are not to seek for their meaning 
in their terms but in some other quarter. It is hardly necessary 
to remark, that when this assumption is made, the inquirer is 
launched upon a boundless ocean, and though he has to make his 
way to a port, possesses neither compass nor helm, and can see 
neither sun nor star. Who can assign any limit to license of 
interpretation when it is once agreed that the words themselves 
mean nothing ? The world is all before us, and we have to seek 
a place of rest from pyrrhonism wherever we can find it. We 
are told to go back to Queen Elizabeth’s days, and to find out, if 
we can, what the legislature who framed the Articles meant: 
always premising that we are not to judge of what they meant by 
what they said. How is it discovered that they did not mean 
what they said 1 By a process of most convincing argumentation; 
which argumentation consists in this, “ It is difficult to conceive 
how” they could have meant it! 1 These are agreeable and con¬ 
venient solutions; but they are not true. 

“ They who contend that nothing less can j ustify subscription to 
the Thirty-nine Articles, than the actual belief of each and every 
separate proposition contained in them, must suppose that the 
legislature expected the consent of ten thousand men and that in 
perpetual succession, not to one controverted proposition but to 
many hundreds. It is difficult to conceive how this could be 
expected by any who observed the incurable diversity of human 
opinion upon all subjects short of demonstration.” 2 Now it 
appears that the Legislature of Elizabeth actually did require 
uniformity of opinion upon these controverted points. Such has 
been the decision of the Judges. “ One Smyth subscribed to the 
said Thirty-nine Articles of religion with this addition,— so far 
forth as the same were agreeable to the word of God ; —and it was 
1 Mor. and.Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 1, c. 22. 2 Id. 




REFUSAL TO SUBSCRIBE. 


209 


Chap. 8. 


resolved by Wray, Chief Justice in the King’s Bench, and all the 
Judges of England, that this subscription was not according to the 
statute of 13th Eliz. Because the statute required an absolute 
subscription, and this subscription made it conditional: and that 
this act was made for avoiding diversity of opinions , 8$c. ; and by 
this addition, the party might, by his own private opinion, take 
some of them to be against the Word of God, and by this means, 
diversity of opinions should not be avoided, which was the scope of 
the statute ; and the very act made, touching subscription, of none 
effect.” 1 

This overthrows the convenient explanations of modern times. 
It is agreed by those who offer these explanations that the mean¬ 
ing of Elizabeth’s legislature is that by which they are bound. 
That meaning then is declared by all the Judges of England to 
be, that subscribers should believe the propositions of the Articles. 
The modern explanations allow private opinion the liberty of 
thinking some of them to be “against the Word of God.” This 
was precisely the liberty which the legislature intended to pre¬ 
clude. The modern explanations affirm the Articles to be condi¬ 
tional, and in fact, that they impose only a few general obligations; 
but unconditional subscription was the very thing which the legis¬ 
lature required. If a person should now express the condition 
which Smyth, as reported by Coke, expressed, and should say, I 
believe the Articles so far as they are accordant with Christian 
Truth,—it appears that his subscription would not be accepted ; 
and yet this is what is done by perhaps every clergyman in Eng¬ 
land,—with this difference only, that the reservation is secretly 
made and not frankly expressed. So that in reality; and accord¬ 
ing to the principles laid down by the apologists of subscription, 2 
almost every subscriber subscribes falsely. 

But what, it will be asked, is to be done 1 Refuse to subscribe. 
There is no other means of maintaining your purity, and perhaps 
no other means of procuring an abolition of the Articles. At least 
this means would be effectual. We may be sure that the legisla- 

1 Coke: Instit, 4 cap. 74, p. 324. 

2 These principles are, that the meaning of a promise or an oath is to he determined 
by the meaning of those who impose it. This as a general rule is true, but I repeat 
the doubt whether in the case of antiquated forms, a proper standard of their meaning 
is not to be sought in the intention of the legislatures which now perpetuate those 
forms. This doubt however, in whatever way it preponderates, will not afford a 
justification of subscribing to forms of which the terms are notoriously disregarded. 

P 




210 


REFUSAL TO SUBSCRIBE. 


Essay 2 . 


ture would revise or abolish them if it was found that no one 
would subscribe. They would not leave the pulpits empty in 
compliment to a barbarous relic of the days of Elizabeth. Perhaps 
it will be said, that although men of virtue refused to subscribe, 
the pulpits would still be filled with unprincipled men. The effect 
would speedily be the same : the legislature would not continue to 
impose subscription for the sake of excluding from the ministry all 
but bad men.—Those who subscribe, therefore, bind the burden 
upon their own shoulders and upon the shoulders of posterity. 
The offence is great: the scandal to religion is great: and even if 
refusal to subscribe would not remove the evil, the question for the 
individual is not what may be the consequences of doing his duty, 
but what his duty is. We want a little more Christian fidelity; a 
little more of that spirit which made our forefathers prefer the 
stake to tampering with their consciences. 




CHAPTER IX. 


IMMORAL AGENCY. 

A great portion of the moral evil in the world, is the result 
not so much of the intensity of individual wickedness, as of a 
general incompleteness in the practical virtue of all classes of men. 
If it were possible to take away misconduct from one half of the 
community and to add its amount to the remainder, it is probable 
that the moral character of our species would be soon benefited by 
the change. Now, the ill dispositions of the bad are powerfully 
encouraged by the want of upright examples in those who are 
better. A man may deviate considerably from rectitude and still 
be as good as his neighbours. From such a man, the motive to 
excellence which the constant presence of virtuous example sup¬ 
plies, is taken away. So that there is reason to believe, that if 
the bad were to become worse, and the reputable to become pro- 
portionably better, the average virtue of the world would speedily 
be increased. 

One of the modes by which the efficacy of example in reputable 
persons is miserably diminished, is by what we have called 
Immoral Agency,—by their being willing to encourage, at second 
hand, evils which they would not commit as principals. Linked 
together as men are in society, it is frequently difficult to perform 
an unwarrantable action without some sort of co-operation from 
creditable men. This co-operation is not often, except in flagrant 
cases, refused; and thus not only is the commission of such actions 
facilitated, but a general relaxation is induced in the practical 
estimates which men form of the standard of rectitude. 

Since then so much evil attends this agency in unwarrantable 
conduct, it manifestly becomes a good man to look around upon 
the nature of his intercourse with others, and to consider whether 
he is not virtually promoting evils which his judgment deprecates, 
or reducing the standard of moral judgment in the world. The 




21*2 


IMMORAL AGENCY. 


Essay 2 . 


reader would have no difficulty in perceiving that if a strenuous 
opponent of the slave trade should establish a manufactory of 
manacles, and thumb screws, and iron collars for the slave mer¬ 
chants, he would be grossly inconsistent with himself. The reader 
would perceive too, that his labours in the cause of the abolition 
would be almost nullified by the viciousness of his example, and 
that he would generally discredit pretensions to philanthropy. 
Now that which we desire the reader to do is, to apply the prin¬ 
ciples which this illustration exhibits to other and less flagrant 
cases. Other cases of co-operation with evil may be less flagrant 
than this, but they are not, on that account, innocent. I have 
read, in the life of a man of great purity of character, that he 
refused to draw up a will or some such document because it con¬ 
tained a transfer of some slaves. He thought that slavery was 
absolutely wrong ; and therefore would not, even by the remotest 
implication, sanction the system by his example. 3 I think he 
exercised a sound Christian judgment; and if all who prepare such 
documents acted upon the same principles, I know not whether 
they would not so influence public opinion as greatly to hasten the 
abolition of slavery itself. Yet where is the man who would 
refuse to do this, or to do things even less defensible than this 1 
Publication and circulation of books. It is a very 
common thing to hear of the evils of pernicious reading, of how it 
enervates the mind, or how it depraves the principles. The com¬ 
plaints are doubtless just. These books could not be read, and 
these evils would be spared the world, if one did not write, and 
another did not print, and another did not sell, and another did not 
circulate them. Are those then without whose agenc}^ the mischief 
could not ensue, to be held innocent in affording this agency 1 Yet, 
loudly as we complain of the evil, and carefully as we warn our 
children to avoid it, how seldom do we hear public reprobation of 
the writers! As to printers, and booksellers, and library keepers, 
we scarcely hear their offences mentioned at all. We speak not 
of those abandoned publications which all respectable men con¬ 
demn, but of those which, pernicious as they are confessed to be, 

1 One of the publications of this excellent man contains a paragraph much to our 
present purpose : “ In all our concerns, it is necessary that nothing we do may carry 
the appearance of approbation of the works of wickedness, make the unrighteous more 
at ease in unrighteousness, or occasion the injuries committed against the oppressed 
to be more lightly looked over.”— Considerations on the True Harmony of Mankind, 
c. 3, by John Woolman. 




Chap. 9. 


INJURIOUS BOOKS.—SENECA. 


213 


furnish reading-rooms and libraries, and are habitually sold in 
almost every bookseller’s shop. Seneca says, “ He that lends a 
man money to carry him to a bawdy-house, or a weapon for his 
revenge, makes himself a partner of his crime.” He too who 
writes or sells a book which will, in all probability, injure the 
reader, is accessory to the mischief which may be done : with this 
aggravation, when compared with the examples of Seneca, that 
whilst the money would probably do mischief but to one or two 
persons, the book may injure a hundred or a thousand. Of the 
writers of injurious books, we need say no more. If the inferior 
agents are censurable, the primary agent must be more censurable. 
A printer or a bookseller should however reflect, that to be not so 
bad as another, is a very different thing from being innocent. 
When we see that the owner of a press will print any work that 
is offered to him, with no other concern about its tendency than 
whether it will subject him to penalties from the law, we surely 
must perceive that he exercises but a very imperfect virtue. Is 
it obligatory upon us not to promote ill principles in other men 1 
He does not fulfil the obligation. Is it obligatory upon us to pro¬ 
mote rectitude by unimpeachable example 1 He does not exhibit 
that example. If it were right for my neighbour to furnish me 
with the means of moral injury, it would not be wrong for me to 
accept and to employ them. 

I stand in a bookseller’s shop, and observe his customers suc¬ 
cessively coming in. One orders a lexicon, and one a work of 
scurrilous infidelity; one Captain Cook’s Voyages, and one a new 
licentious romance. If the bookseller takes and executes all these 
orders with the same willingness, I cannot but perceive that there 
is an inconsistency, an incompleteness, in his moral principles of 
action. Perhaps this person is so conscious of the mischievous 
effects of such books, that he would not allow them in the hands of 
his children, nor suffer them to be seen on his parlour table. But 
if he thus knows the evils which they inflict, can it be right for 
him to be the agent in diffusing them 1 Such a person does not 
exhibit that consistency, that completeness of virtuous conduct, 
without which the Christian character cannot be fully exhibited. 
Step into the shop of this bookseller’s neighbour, a druggist, and 
there, if a person asks for some arsenic, the tradesman begins to 
be anxious. He considers whether it is probable the buyer wants 
it for a proper purpose. If he does sell it, he cautions the buyer 



214 


PHYSICAL AND MORAL POISON. Essay 2. 


to keep it where others cannot have access to it; and before he 
delivers the packet legibly inscribes upon it, Poison. One of 
these men sells poison to the body and the other poison to the 
mind. If the anxiety and caution of the druggist is right, the 
indifference of the bookseller must be wrong. Add to which that 
the druggist would not sell arsenic at all if it were not sometimes 
useful; but to what readers can a vicious book be useful! 

Suppose for a moment that no printer would commit such a 
book to his press, and that no bookseller would sell it, the conse¬ 
quence would be that nine-tenths of these manuscripts would be 
thrown into the fire, or rather that they would never have been 
written. The inference is obvious; and surely it is not needful 
again to enforce the consideration that although your refusal might 
not prevent vicious books from being published, you are not there¬ 
fore exempted from the obligation to refuse. A man must do his 
duty whether the effects of his fidelity be such as he would desire 
or not. Such purity of conduct might no doubt circumscribe a 
man’s business, and so does purity of conduct in some other pro¬ 
fessions : but if this be a sufficient excuse for contributing to 
demoralize the world, if profit be a justification of a departure 
from rectitude, it will be easy to defend the business of a pick¬ 
pocket. 

1 know that the principles of conduct which these paragraphs 
recommend, lead to grave practical consequences: I know that 
they lead to the conclusion that the business of a printer or book¬ 
seller, as it is ordinarily conducted, is not consistent with Christian 
uprightness. A man may carry on a business in select works; 
and this, by some conscientious persons, is really done. In the 
present state of the press, the difficulty of obtaining a considerable 
business as a bookseller without circulating injurious works may 
frequently be great, and it is in consequence of this difficulty that 
we see so few booksellers amongst the Quakers. The few who do 
conduct the business, generally reside in large towns, where the 
demand for all books is so great that a person can procure a com¬ 
petent income though he excludes the bad. 

He who is more studious to justify his conduct than to act 
aright, may say that if a person may sell no book that can injure 
another, he can scarcely sell any book. The answer is, that 
although there must be some difficulty in discrimination, though a 
bookseller cannot always inform himself what the precise tendency 


Chap. 9. IMMORAL AGENCY IN DRUNKENNESS. 


215 


of a book is,—yet there can be no difficulty in judging, respecting 
numberless books, that their tendency is bad. If we cannot define 
the precise distinction between the good and the evil, we can 
nevertheless perceive the evil when it has attained to a certain 
extent. He who cannot distinguish day from evening can distin¬ 
guish it from night. 

The case of the proprietors of common circulating libraries is 
yet more palpable; because the majority of the books which they 
contain inflict injury upon their readers. How it happens that 
persons of respectable character, and who join with others in 
lamenting the frivolity and worse than frivolity of the age, never¬ 
theless daily and hourly contribute to the mischief without any 
apparent consciousness of inconsistency, it is difficult to explain. 
A person establishes, perhaps, one of these libraries for the first 
time in a country town. He supplies the younger and less busy 
part of its inhabitants with a source of moral injury from which 
hitherto they had been exempt. The girl who till now possessed 
sober views of life, he teaches to dream of the extravagancies of 
love; he familiarizes her ideas with intrigue and licentiousness; 
destroys her disposition for rational pursuits; and prepares her, it 
may be, for a victim of debauchery. These evils, or such as 
these, he inflicts not upon one or two, but upon as many as he 
can; and yet this person lays his head upon his pillow as if, in all 
this, he was not offending against virtue or against man! 

Inns. When in passing the door of an inn I hear or see a 
company of intoxicated men in the “ excess of riot,” I cannot per¬ 
suade myself that he who supplies the wine and profits by the 
viciousness, is a moral man. In the private house of a person of 
respectability, such a scene would be regarded as a scandal. It 
would lower his neighbour’s estimate of the excellence of his cha¬ 
racter. But does it then constitute a sufficient justification of 
allowing vice in our houses, that we get by it 1 Does morality 
grant to a man an exemption from its obligations, at the same 
time as he procures his license! Drunkenness is immoral. If 
therefore when a person is on the eve of intoxication, the inn¬ 
keeper supplies his demand for another bottle, he is accessory to 
the immorality. A man was lately found drowned in a stream. 
He had just left a public house where he had been intoxicated 
during sixty hours; and within this time, the publican had sup¬ 
plied him (besides some spirits), with forty quarts of ale. Does 
any reader need to be convinced that this publican had acted 


216 


PROSECUTIONS.—POLITICAL AGENCY. Essay 2. 


criminally]—His crime however was neither the greater nor the 
less because it had been the means of loss of life: no such 
accident might have happened; but his guilt would have been 
the same. 

Probity is not the only virtue which it is good policy to prac¬ 
tise. The innkeeper, of whom it was known that he would not 
supply the means of excess, would probably gain by the resort of 
those wdio approved his integrity, more than he would lose by the 
absence of those whose excesses that integrity kept away. An 
inn has been conducted upon such maxims. He who is disposed 
to make proof of the result, might fix upon an established quan¬ 
tity of the different liquors, which he would not exceed. If that 
quantity were deterininately fixed, the lover of excess would have 
no ground of complaint when he had been supplied to its amount. 
Such honourable and manly conduct might have an extensive 
effect, until it influenced the practice even of the lower resorts of 
intemperance. A sort of ill fame might attach to the house in 
which a man could become drunk; and the maxim might be 
established by experience, that it was necessary to the respect¬ 
ability, and therefore generally to the success, of a public-house, 
that none should be seen to reel out of its doors. 

Prosecutions. It is upon principles of conduct similar to 
those which are here recommended, that many persons are 
reluctant, and some refuse, to prosecute offenders when they 
think the penalty of the law is unwarrantably severe. This 
motive operates in our own country to a great extent: and it 
ought to operate. I should not think it right to give evidence 
against a man who had robbed my house, if I knew that my 
evidence would occasion him to be hanged. Whether the reader 
may think similarly, is of no consequence to the principle. The 
principle is, that if you think the end vicious and wrong, you are 
guilty of “Immoral Agency” in contributing to effect that end. 
Unhappily, w T e are much less willing to act upon this principle 
when our agency produces only moral evil than when it produces 
physical suffering. He that would not give evidence which would 
take a man’s life or even occasion him loss or pain, would with 
little hesitation be an agent of injuring his moral principles: and 
yet perhaps the evil of the latter case is incomparably greater 
than that of the former. 

Political affairs. The amount of Immoral Agency which 
is practised in these affairs, is very great. Look to any of the 


Chap. 9. POLITICAL AGENCY.-—IMMORAL AGENCY. 


217 


continental governments, or to any that have subsisted there, how 
few acts of misrule, of oppression, of injustice, and of crime, have 
been prevented by the want of agents of the iniquity! I speak not 
of notoriously bad men: of these, bad governors can usually find 
enough: but I speak of men who pretend to respectability and 
virtue of character, and who are actually called respectable by the 
world. There is perhaps no class of affairs in which the agency 
of others is more indispensable to the accomplishment of a vicious 
act, than in the political. Very little—comparatively very little— 
of oppression and of the political vices of rulers should we see, if 
reputable men did not lend their agency. These evils could not 
be committed through the agency of merely bad men; because the 
very fact that bad men only would abet them, would frequently 
preclude the possibility of their commission. It is not to be pre¬ 
tended that no public men possess or have possessed sufficient 
virtue to refuse to be the agents of a vicious government,—but 
they are few. If they were numerous, especially if they were as 
numerous as they ought to be, history, even very modern history, 
would have had a far other record to frame than that which now 
devolves to her. Can it be needful to argue upon such things 1 
Can it be needful to prove that, neither the commands of ministers, 
nor “ systems of policy,” nor any other circumstance, exempts a 
public man from the obligations of the Moral Law 1 Public men 
often act as if they thought that to be a public man was to be 
brought under -the jurisdiction of a new and a relaxed morality. 
They often act as if they thought that not to be the prime mover 
in political misdeeds, was to be exempt from all moral responsi¬ 
bility for those deeds. A dagger, if it could think, would think it 
was not responsible for the assassination of which it was the 
agent. A public man may be a political dagger, but he cannot 
like the dagger, be irresponsible. 

These illustrations of Immoral Agency and of the obligation to 
avoid it might be multiplied, if enough had not been offered to 
make our sentiments and the reasons upon which they are founded, 
obvious to the reader. Undoubtedly, in the present state of 
society, it is no easy task, upon these subjects, to wash our hands 
in innocency. But if we cannot avoid all agency, direct or indi¬ 
rect, in evil things, we can avoid much: and it will be sufficiently 
early to complain of the difficulty of complete purity, when we 
have dismissed from our conduct as much impurity as we can. 




CHAPTER X 


THE INFLUENCE OF INDIVIDUALS UPON- PUBLIC NOTIONS OF 

MORALITY. 


That the influence of Public Opinion upon the practice of 
virtue is very great, needs no proof. Of this influence the reader 
has seen some remarkable illustrations in the discussion of the 
Efficacy of Oaths in binding to veracity. 1 There is indeed al¬ 
most no action and no institution which Public Opinion does not 
affect. In moral affairs it makes men call one mode of human de¬ 
struction murderous and one honourable; it makes the same action 
abominable in one individual and venial in another: in public 
institutions from a village workhouse to the constitution of a state j 
it is powerful alike for evil or for good. If it be misdirected it will 
strengthen and perpetuate corruption and abuse; if it be directed 
aright, it will eventually remove corruptions and correct abuses 
with a power which no power can withstand. 

In proportion to the greatness of its power is the necessity of 
rectifying Public Opinion itself. To contribute to its rectitude is 
to exercise exalted philanthrophy,—to contribute to its incor¬ 
rectness is to spread wickedness and misery in the world. The 
purpose of the present chapter is to remark upon some of 
those subjects on which the Public Opinion appears to be inac¬ 
curate, and upon the consequent obligation upon individuals 
not to perpetuate that inaccuracy and its attendant evils by 
their conduct or their language. Of the positive part of the 
obligation,—that which respects the active correction of common 
opinions, little will be said. He who does not promote the evil 
can scarcely fail of promoting the good. A man often must deliver 
his sentiments respecting the principles and actions of others, and 
if he delivers them so as not to encourage what is wrong he will 
practically encourage what is right. 

1 Essay 2, chap. 7. 






Chap. 10. 


ERRORS OF PUBLIC OPINION. 


219 


It might have been presumed, of a people who assent to the 
authority of the Moral Law, that their notions of the merit or tur¬ 
pitude of actions would have been conformable with the doctrines 
which that law delivers. Far other is the fact. The estimates of 
the Moral Law and of public opinion are discordant to excess. 
Men have practised a sort of transposition with the moral pre¬ 
cepts, and have assigned to them arbitrary and capricious, and 
therefore new and mischievous stations on the moral scale. The 
order both of the vices and the virtues is greatly deranged. 

Suppose, with respect to vices, the highest degree of reproba¬ 
tion in the Moral Law to be indicated by 20, and to descend by 
units as the reprobation became less severe, and suppose in the 
same manner we put 20 for the highest offence according to popu¬ 
lar opinion, and diminish the number as it accounts less of the 
offence, we should probably be presented with some such gradua¬ 
tion as this : 



Moral 

Public 



Law. 

Opinion. 


Murder . 

20 

20 


Human destruction under other names. 

18 

0 


Unchastity, if of Women. 

18 

18 


Unchastity, if of Men . 

18 

2 


Theft. 

17 

17 


Fraud and other modes of dishonesty. 

. 17 

6—4 

or 1 

Lying. 

. 17 

17 


Lying for particular purposes or to > 

17 

O_ r\r 

■ n 

particular, classes of persons .... $ 


Resentment. 

.- 16 

g i and every 
l dation. 

Profaneness . 

. 15 

1Q £ and every 
£ dation. 


We might make a similar statement of the virtues. This in¬ 
deed is inevitable in the case of those virtues which are the oppo¬ 
sites of some of these vices. Respecting others we may say— 


Moral Public 
Law. Opinion. 


Forbearance. 16 3 and lapsing into a vice. 

Fortitude. 16 10 

Courage. 14 14 

Bravery. 1 20 

Patriotism. 2 20 

Placability. 18 4 


How, it may reasonably be asked, do these strange incon- 

















220 EFFECTS OF ERRORS OF PUBLIC OPINION. Essay 2. 


gruities arise 1 First, men practise a sort of voluntary deception 
on themselves : they persuade themselves to think that an offence 
which they desire to commit, is not so vicious as the Moral Law 
indicates, or as others to which they have little temptation. They 
persuade themselves again, that a virtue which is easily prac¬ 
tised is of great worth, because they thus flatter themselves with 
complacent notions of their excellencies at a cheap rate. Virtues 
which are difficult they for the same reason depreciate. This is 
the dictate of interest. It is manifestly good policy to think 
lightly of the value of a quality which we do not choose to be at 
the cost of possessing ; and who would willingly think there was 
much evil in a vice which he practised every day 1—That which a 
man thus persuades himself to think a trivial vice or an unimpor¬ 
tant virtue, he of course speaks of as such amongst his neighbours. 
They perhaps are as much interested in propagating the delusion 
as he : they listen with willing ears, and cherish and proclaim the 
grateful falsehood. By these and by other means the public 
notions become influenced ; a long continuance of the general chi¬ 
canery at length actually confounds the Public Opinion; and when 
once an opinion has become a public opinion, there is no difficulty 
in accounting for the perpetuation of the fallacy. 

If sometimes the mind of an individual recurs to the purer stand¬ 
ard, a multitude of obstacles present themselves to its practical 
adoption. He hopes that under the present circumstances of 
society an exact obedience to the Moral Law is not required; he 
tries to think that the notions of a kingdom or a continent cannot 
be so erroneous; and at any rate trusts that as he deviates with 
millions, millions will hardly be held guilty at the bar of God.— 
The misdirection of Public Opinion is an obstacle to the virtue 
even of good men. He who looks beyond the notions of others 
and founds his moral principles upon the Moral Law, yet feels that 
it is more difficult to conform to that law when he is discounte¬ 
nanced by the general notions than if those notions supported and 
encouraged him. What then must the effect of such misdirec¬ 
tion be upon those to whom acceptance in the world is the prin¬ 
ciple concern, and who, if others applaud or smile, seem to be 
indifferent whether their own hearts condemn them 1 

Now, with a participation in the evils which the misdirection of 
public opinion occasions, every one is chargeable who speaks of 
moral actions according to a standard that varies from that which 


Chap. 10 PUBLIC NOTIONS OF DUELLING. 


221 


Christianity has exhibited. Here is the cause of the evil, and here 
must be its remedy. “ It is an important maxim in morals as 
well as in education to call things by their right names.” 1 “ To 
bestow good names on bad things is to give them a passport in 
the world under a delusive disguise.” 2 “ The soft names and 
plausible colours under which deceit, sensuality, and revenge 
are presented to us in common discourse, weaken by degrees our 
natural sense of the distinction between good and evil.” 3 Pub¬ 
lic notions of morality constitute a sort of line of demarcation 
which is regarded by most men in their practice as a boundary 
between right and wrong. He who contributes to fix this boundary 
in the wrong place, who places evil on the side of virtue, or good¬ 
ness on the side of vice, offends more deeply against the morality 
and the welfare of the world than multitudes who are punished by 
the arm of law. If moral offences are to be estimated by their 
consequences few will be found so deep as that of habitually 
giving good names to bad things. It is well indeed for the respon¬ 
sibility of individuals that their contribution to the aggregate mis¬ 
chief is commonly small. Yet every man should remember that it 
is by the contribution of individuals that the aggregate is formed ; 
and that it can only be by the deductions of individuals that it will 
be done away. 

Duelling. If two boys who disagreed about a game of marbles 
or a penny tart, should therefore walk out by the river side, 
quietly take off their clothes, and wdien they had got into the 
water, each try to keep the other’s head down until one of them 
was drowned, we should doubtless think that these two boys were 
mad. If when the survivor returned to his schoolfellows, they 
patted him on the shoulder, told him he was a spirited fellow, and 
that if he had not tried the feat in the water, they would never have 
played at marbles or any other game with him again, we should 

1 Rees’s Encyclop. Art. Philos. Moral. 2 Knox’s Essays, No. 34. 3 Blair, Serm. 9. 

Dr. Carpenter insists upon similar truths upon somewhat different subjects. “ If 
children hear us express as much approbation, and in the same terms, of the skill 
of a gentleman coach driver, of the abilities of a philosophical lecturer, and of an 
individual who has just performed an elevated act of disinterested virtue, is it possi¬ 
ble that they should not feel gTeat confusion of ideas. If each is termed a noble 
fellow, and with the same emphasis and animation, how can the youthful under¬ 
standing calculate with sufficient accuracy so as to appreciate the import of the 
expression in the same way that we should doPrinciples of Education— 
Conscience. 


22-2 


PUBLIC OPINION—DUELLING. 


Essay 2 . 


doubtless think that these boys were infected with a most revolting 
and disgusting depravity and ferociousness. We should instantly 
exert ourselves to correct their principles, and should feel assured 
that nothing could ever induce us to tolerate, much less to encou¬ 
rage such abandoned depravity.—And yet we do both tolerate and 
encourage such depravity every day. Change the penny tart for 
some other trifle; instead of boys put men, and instead of a river, 
a pistol,—and we encourage it all. We virtually pat the survi¬ 
vor’s shoulder, tell him he is a man of honour, and that if he had 
not shot at his acquaintance, we would never have dined with him 
again. “ Revolting and disgusting depravity” are at once ex¬ 
cluded from our vocabulary. We substitute such phrases as “ the 
course which a gentleman is obliged to pursue,”—“ it was neces¬ 
sary to his honour,”—“ one could not have associated with him 
if he had not fought.” We are the schoolboys, grown up; and 
by the absurdity, and more than absurdity of our phrases and 
actions, shooting or drowning (it matters not which) becomes the 
practice of the national school. 

It is not a trifling question that a man puts to himself when he 
asks, What is the amount of my contribution to this detestable 
practice ? It is by individual contributions to the public notions 
respecting it that the practice is kept up. Men do not fire at 
one another because they are fond of risking their own lives or 
other men’s, but because public notions are such as they are. Nor 
do I think any deduction can be more manifestly just than that he 
who contributes to the misdirection of these notions is responsible 
for a share of the evil and the guilt.—When some offence has given 
probability to a duel, every man acts immorally who evinces any 
disposition to coolness with either party until he has resolved to 
fight; and if eventually one of them falls, he is a party to his 
destruction. Every word of unfriendliness, every look of in¬ 
difference, is positive guilt; for it is such words and such looks 
that drive men to their pistols. It is the same after a victim has 
fallen. “ I pity his family but they have the consolation of 
knowing that he vindicated his honour,” is equivalent to urging 
another and another to fight. Every heedless gossip who asks 
“ Have you heard of this affair of honour ?” and every reporter of 
news who relates it as a proper and necessary procedure partici¬ 
pates in the general crime. 

If they who hear of an intended meeting amongst their friends 



SCOTTISH BENCH. 


12*23 


Chap. 10. 


hasten to manifest that they will continue their intercourse with 
the parties though they do not fight,—if none talks of vindicating 
honour by demanding satisfaction,—if he who speaks and he who 
writes of this atrocity, speaks and writes as reason and morals 
dictate, duelling will soon disappear from the world. To contri¬ 
bute to the suppression of the custom is therefore easy, and let no 
man, and let no woman, who does not, as occasion offers, express 
reprobation of the custom, think that their hands are clear of 
blood.—They especially are responsible for its continuance whose 
station or general character gives peculiar influence to their 
opinions in its favour. What then are we to think of the conduct 
of a British Judge who encourages it from the bench ! A short 
time ago a person was tried on the Perth circuit for murder, having 
killed another in a duel. The evidence of the fact was undisputed. 
Before the verdict was pronounced, the judge is said to have used 
these words in his address to the jury : “ The character you have 
heard testified by so many respectable and intelligent gentlemen 
this day, is as high as is possible for man to receive, and I consider 
that throughout this affair the panel has acted up to it.” So that it 
is laid down from the bench that the man who shoots another 
through the heart for striking him with an umbrella, acts up to the 
highest possible character of man! The prisoner, although every 
one knew he had killed the deceased, was acquitted, and the judge 
is reported to have addressed him thus : “ You must be aware that 
the only duty I have to perform is to dismiss you from that bar 
with a character unsullied.” 1 If the judge’s language be true, 
Christianity is an idle fiction. Who will wonder at the contin¬ 
uance of duelling, who will wonder that upon this subject the 
Moral Law is disregarded, if we are to be told that “ unsullied 
character,”—nay, that “ the highest possible character of man,” 
is compatible with trampling Christianity under our feet 1 
How happy would it be for our country and for the world, how 
truly glorious for himself, if the king would act towards the 
duellist as his mother acted towards women who had lost their 
reputation. She rigidly excluded them from her presence. If 
the British Monarch refused to allow the man who had fought a 
duel to approach him, it is probable that ere long duelling would 
be abolished, not merely in this country but in the Christian world. 
Nor will true Christian respect be violated by the addition, that in 

1 The Trial is reported in the Caledonian Mercury of Sept. 25,1826. 




224 PUBLIC OPINION.—GLORY. Essay 2. 

proportion to the power of doing good is the responsibility for 
omitting it. 

Glory : Military virtues. To prove that war is an evil 
were much the same as to prove that the light of the sun is a 
good. And yet, though no one will dispute the truth, there 
are few who consider and few who know how great the evil is- 
The practice is encircled with so many glittering fictions, that most 
men are content with but a vague and inadequate idea of the 
calamities, moral, physical, and political, which it inflicts upon our 
species. But if few men consider how prodigious its mischiefs are, 
they see enough to agree in the conclusion that the less frequently 
it happens the better for the common interests of man. Supposing 
then that some wars are lawful and unavoidable, it is neverthe¬ 
less manifest, that whatever tends to make them more frequent 
than necessity requires, must be very pernicious to mankind. 
Now in consequence of a misdirection of public notions, this need¬ 
less frequency exists. Public opinion is favourable, not so much 
to war in the abstract or in practice, as to the profession of arms; 
and the inevitable consequence is this, that war itself is greatly 
promoted without reference to the causes for which it may be un¬ 
dertaken. By attaching notions of honour to the military pro¬ 
fession, and of glory to military achievements, three wars probably 
have been occasioned where there otherwise would have been but 
one. To talk of the “ splendours of conquest,” and the “ glories 
of victory,” to extol those who “ fall covered with honour in their 
country’s cause,” is to occasion the recurrence of wars not be¬ 
cause they are necessary, but because they are desired. It is in 
fact contributing, according to the speaker’s power, to desolate 
provinces and set villages in flames, to ruin thousands and destroy 
thousands,—to inflict, in brief, all the evils and the miseries which 
war inflicts. “ Splendours ,”—“ Glories,”—“ Honours ” !•—The 
listening soldier wants to signalize himself like the heroes who 
are departed; he wants to thrust his sickle into the fields of fame 
and reap undying laurels :■—How shall he signalize himself with¬ 
out a war, and on what field can he reap glory but in the field of 
battle] The consequence is inevitable: Multitudes desire war;— 
they are fond of war,—and it requires no sagacity to discover, 
that to desire and to love it is to make it likely to happen. Thus 
a perpetual motive to human destruction is created of which the 
tendency is as inevitable as the tendency of a stone to fall to the 



Chap . 10. 


GLORY.—MILITARY VIRTUES. 


225 


earth. The present state of public opinion manifestly promotes 
the recurrence of wars of all kinds, necessary (if such there are) 
and unnecessary. It promotes wars of pure aggression,—of the 
most unmingled wickedness: it promoted the wars of the depart¬ 
ed Louises and Napoleons. It awards “ glory” to the soldier 
wherever be his achievements and in whatever cause. 

Now, waving the after consideration as to the nature of Glory 
itself, the individual may judge of his duties with respect to public 
opinion by its effects. To minister to the popular notions of 
glory is to encourage needless wars; it is therefore his duty not to 
minister to those notions. Common talk by a man’s fire-side con¬ 
tributes its little to the universal evil, and shares in the universal 
offence. Of the writers of some books it is not too much to sup¬ 
pose, that they have occasioned more murders than all the clubs 
and pistols of assassins for ages have effected. Is there no re¬ 
sponsibility for this ? 

But perhaps it will afford to some men new ideas if we inquire 
what the real nature of the military virtues is. They receive 
more of applause than virtues of any other kind. How does this 
happen] We must seek a solution in the seeming paradox that 
their pretensions to the characters of Virtues are few and small. 
They receive much applause because they merit little. They 
could not subsist without it; and if men resolve to practise war 
and consequently to require the conduct which gives success to 
war, they must decorate that conduct with glittering fictions, and 
extol the military virtues though they be neither good nor great. 
Of every species of real excellence it is the general characteristic 
that it is not anxious for applause. The more elevated the virtue 
the less the desire, and the less is the public voice a motive to 
action. What should we say of that man’s benevolence who 
would not relieve a neighbour in distress unless the donation 
would be praised in a newspaper? What should we say of 
that man’s piety who prayed only when he was “ seen of men” ? 
But the military virtues live upon applause; it is their vital 
element and their food, their great pervading motive and reward. 
Are there then amongst the respective virtues, such discor¬ 
dancies of character,—such total contrariety of nature and essence ? 
No No. But how then do you account for the fact, that whilst 
all other great virtues are independent of public praise and stand 
aloof from it, the military virtues can scarcely exist without it. 

It is again a characteristic of exalted Virtue that it tends to pro- 

Q 




226 


FALLACY OF MILITARY VIRTUES. Essay 2. 


duce exalted virtues of other kinds. He that is distinguished by 
diffusive benevolence, is rarely chargeable with profaneness or 
debauchery. The man of piety is not seen drunk. The man of 
candour and humility is not vindictive or unchaste. Can the 
same things be predicated of the tendency of military virtues'? 
Do they tend powerfully to the production of all other virtues'? 
Is the brave man peculiarly pious 1 Is the military patriot pecu¬ 
liarly chaste 1 Is he who pants for glory and acquires it, distin¬ 
guished by unusual placability and temperance 1 No No. How 
then do you account for the fact, that whilst other virtues thus 
strongly tend to produce and to foster one another, 1 the military 
virtues have little of such tendency or none 1 

The simple truth, however veiled and however unwelcome, is 
this ; that the military virtues will not endure examination. They 
are called what they are not, or what they are in a very inferior 
degree to that which popular notions imply. It would not serve 
the purposes of war to represent these qualities as being what they 
are: we therefore dress them with factitious and alluring orna¬ 
ments ; and they have been dressed so long that we admire the 
show, and forget to inquire what is underneath. Our applauses of 
military virtues do not adorn them like the natural bloom of love¬ 
liness ; it is the paint of that which, if seen, would not attract, if it 
did not repel us. They are not like the verdure which adorns the 
meadow, but the greenness that conceals a bog. If the reader says 
that we indulge in declamation, we invite, we solicit him to inves¬ 
tigate the truth. And yet, without inquiring further, there is con¬ 
clusive evidence in the fact, that glory, that praise, is the vital 
principle of military virtue. Let us take sound rules for our guides 
of judgment, and it is not possible that we should regard any 
quality as possessing much virtue which lives only or chiefly upon 
praise. And who will pretend that the ranks of armies would be 
filled if no tongue talked of bravery and glory, and no news¬ 
paper published the achievements of a regiment ? 2 

“ Truth is a naked and open daylight that doth not show the 
masques and mummeries and triumphs of the world half so stately 

1 “ The virtues are nearly related and live in the greatest harmony with each 
other.”—Opie. 

2 It is pleasant to hear an intelligent woman say, “ I cannot tell how or why the 
love of glory is a less selfish principle than the love of riches and it is pleasant to 
hear one of our then principal Reviews say, “ Glory is the most selfish of all passions 
except love.”t That which is selfish can hardly he very virtuous. 

* Memoirs of late Jane Taylor. j Westr. Rev. No. 13. 




Chap. 10. 


MILITARY TALENT. 


227 


and daintily as candlelights.” 1 Let us dismiss then that candle¬ 
light examination which men are wont to adopt when they con¬ 
template military virtues, and see what appearance they exhibit 
in the daylight of truth. Military talent , and active courage ; and 
patriotism or some other motive appear to be the foundations and 
the subjects of our applause. 

With respect to talent little needs to be said, since few have an 
opportunity of displaying it. An able general may exhibit his 
capacity for military affairs; but of the mass of those who join in 
battles and participate in their “ glories,” little more is expected 
than that they should be obedient and brave. And as to the few 
who have the opportunity of displaying talent and who do display 
it, it is manifest that their claims to merit, independently of the 
purpose to which their talent is devoted, is little or none. A man 
deserves no applause for the possession or for the exercise of talent 
as such. One man may possess and exercise as much ability in cor¬ 
rupting the principles of his readers as another who corrects and 
purifies them. One man may exhibit as much ability in swindling 
as another in effectually legislating against swindlers. To applaud 
the possession of talent is absurd, and like many other absurd 
actions, is greatly pernicious. Our approbation should depend on 
the objects upon which the talent is employed. Military talents, 
like all others, are only so far proper subjects of approbation as 
they are employed aright. Yet the popular notion appears to be, 
that the display-of talent in a military leader is, per se, entitled to 
praise. You might as well applaud the dexterity of a corrupt 
minister of state. The truth is, that talent, as such, is not a pro¬ 
per subject of moral approbation any more than strength or beauty. 
But if we thus take away from the “ glories” of military leaders 
all but that which is founded upon the causes in which their ta¬ 
lents were engaged, what will remain to the Alexanders, and the 
Caesars, and the Jenghizes, and the Louises, and the Charleses, 
and the Napoleons, with whose “ glories” the idle voice of fame is 
filled ] “ Tout ce qui peut etre commun aux bons et aux me¬ 

dians, ne le rend point veritablement estimable.” Cannot military 
talents be exhibited indifferently by the good and the bad ? Are 
they not in fact as often exhibited by vicious men as by virtuous 1 
They are, and therefore they are not really deserving of praise. 
But if any man should say that the circumstance of a leader’s 

1 Lord Bacon : Essays. 




228 BRAVERY.—POACHERS. Essay 2. 

exerting his talents tl for his king and country’* is of itself a good 
cause, and therefore entitles him to praise, I answer that such a 
man is deluding himself with idle fictions. I hope presently to 
show this. Meanwhile it is to be remarked, that if this be a valid 
claim to approbation, “ king and country” must always be in the 
right. Who will affirm tills'? And yet if it is not shown, you 
may as well applaud the brigand chief with his thirty followers as 
the greater marauder with his thirty thousand. 

Valour and bravery however may be exhibited by the many,— 
not by generals and admirals alone, but by ensigns and midship¬ 
men, by seamen and by privates. What then is valour, and what 
is bravery! “ There is nothing great but what is virtuous, nor 

indeed truly great but what is composed and quiet.” 1 There is 
much of truth in this. Y^et where then is the greatness of bra¬ 
very, for where is the composure and quietude of the quality 1 
“ Valour or active courage, is for the most part constitutional, and 
therefore can have no more claim to moral merit than wit, beauty, 
or health.” 2 Accordingly, the question which we have just asked 
respecting military talent may be especially asked respecting 
bravery. Cannot bravery be exhibited in common by the good 
and the bad]—Yet further. “ It is a great weakness for a man 
to value himself upon any thing wherein he shall be outdone by 
fools and brutes,” Is not the bravery of the bravest outdone 
even by brutes. When the soldier has vigourously assaulted 
the enemy, when though repulsed he returns to the conflict, when 
being wounded he still brandishes his sword, till it drops from 
his grasp by faintness or death,—he surely is brave. What then 
is the moral rank to which he has attained ] He has attained to 
the rank of a bull-dog. The dog, too, vigourously assails his 
enemy; when tossed into the air he returns to the conflict; when 
gored he still continues to bite, and yields not his hold until he is 
stunned or killed. Contemplating bravery as such, there is not a 
man in Britain or in Europe whose bravery entitles him to praise 
which he must not share with the combatants of a cockpit. Of 
the moral qualities that are components of bravery, the reader may 
form some conception from this language of a man who is said to 
be a large landed proprietor, a magistrate, and a member of par¬ 
liament. “ I am one of those who think that evil alone does not 
result from poaching. The risk poachers run from the dangers 
1 Seneca. 2 Soame Jenyns : Internal Evid. of Christianity, Prop. 3. 



Chap. 10. 


BRAVERY—COURAGE. 


229 


that beset them, added to their occupation being carried on in cold 
dark nights, begets a hardihood of frame and contempt of danger 
that is not without its value. I never heard or knew of a poacher 
being a coward. They all make good soldiers ; and military men 
are well aware that two or three men in each troop or company, 
of bold and enterprising spirits, are not without their effect on 
their comrades.” The same may of course be said of smugglers 
and highwaymen. If these are the characters in whom we are 
peculiarly to seek for bravery, what are the moral qualities of 
bravery itself! All just, all rational, and I will venture to affirm 
all permanent reputation refers to the mind or to virtue; and 
what connection has animal power or animal hardihood with in¬ 
tellect or goodness ! I do not decry courage: he who was better ac¬ 
quainted than we are with the nature and worth of human actions, 
attached much value to courage, but he attached none to bra¬ 
very. 1 Courage, He recommended by his precepts and enforced 
by his example: bravery he never recommended at all. The 
wisdom of this distinction and its accordancy with the principles 
of his religion are plain. Bravery requires the existence of 
many of those dispositions which he disallowed. Animosity* 
the desire of retaliation, the disposition to injure and destroy, 
all this is necessary to the existence of bravery, but all this is 
incompatible with Christianity. The courage which Christianity 
requires is to bravery what fortitude is to daring,—an effort of the 
mental principles rather than of the spirits. It is a calm steady 
determinateness of purpose, that w r ill not be diverted by soli¬ 
citation or awed by fear. “ Behold I go bound in the spirit unto 
Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there; 
save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, saying, that 
bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of these things move 
me, neither count 1 my life dear unto myself” 2 What resem¬ 
blance has bravery to courage like this? This courage is a 
virtue, and a virtue which it is difficult to acquire or to practise; 
and we have heedlessly or ingeniously transferred its praise to 
another quality which is inferior in its nature and easier to ac¬ 
quire, in order that we may obtain the reputation of virtue at a 
cheap rate. 

1 “ Whatever merit valour may have assumed among pagans, with Christians it 
can pretend to none.” Soame Jenyns : Internal Evid. of Christianity, Prop. 3. 

2 Acts 20, 22. 




230 


PATRIOTISM. 


Essay 2 . 


Of those who thus extol the lower qualities of our nature, few 
perhaps are conscious to what a degree they are deluded. In 
exhibiting this delusion let us not forget the purpose for which 
it is done. The popular notion respecting bravery does not ter¬ 
minate in an innoxious mistake. The consequences are practi¬ 
cally and greatly evil. He that has placed his hopes upon the 
praises of valour, desires of course an opportunity of acquiring 
them, and this opportunity he cannot find but in the destruction 
of men. That such powerful motives will lead to this destruction 
when even ambition can scarcely find a pretext, we need not the 
testimony of experience to assure us. It is enough that we con¬ 
sider the principles which actuate mankind. 

And if we turn from actions to motives, from bravery to pa¬ 
triotism, we are presented with similar delusions, and with similar 
mischiefs as their consequence. To “ fight nobly for our coun¬ 
try,” to “ fall, covered with glory in our country’s cause,” to “sa¬ 
crifice our lives for the liberties and laws and religion of our 
country,” are phrases in the mouth of multitudes. What do they 
mean, and to whom do they apply? We contend that to say 
generally of those who perish in war that “ they have died for 
their country,” is simply untrue: and for this simple reason, that 
they did not fight for it. It is not true that patriotism is their 
motive. Why is a boy destined from school for the army? Is it 
that his father is more patrotic than his neighbour who destines 
his son for the bar ? Or if the boy himself begs his father to 
buy an ensigncy, is it because he loves his country, or is it be¬ 
cause he dreams of glory, and admires scarlet and plumes and 
swords? The officer enters the service in order that he may 
obtain an income, not in order to benefit his fellow citizens. The 
private enters it because he prefers a soldier’s life to another, or 
because he has no wish but the wish for change. And having 
entered the army, what is the motive that induces the private or 
his superiors to fight ? It is that fighting is part of their business; 
that it is one of the conditions upon which they were hired. Pa¬ 
triotism is not the motive. Of those who fall in battle, is there one 
in a hundred who even thinks of his country’s good? He thinks 
perhaps of glory and of the fame of his regiment—lie hopes per¬ 
haps that “ Salamanca” or “Austerlitz” will henceforth be in¬ 
scribed on its colours, but rational views of his country’s welfare 
are foreign to his mind. He has scarcely a thought about the 



Ckap. 10. PATRIOTISM NOT THE SOLDIER’S MOTIVE. 231 


matter. He fights in battle as a horse draws in a carriage, be¬ 
cause he is compelled to do it, or because he has done it before; 
but he probably thinks no more of his country’s good than the same 
horse if he were carrying corn to a granary, would think he was 
providing for the comforts of his master. The truth therefore is, 
that we give to the soldier that of which we are wont to be suffi¬ 
ciently sparing,—a gratuitous concession of merit. If he but 
“ fights bravely” he is a patriot and secure of his praise. 

To sacrifice our lives for the liberties and laws and religion of 
our native land, are undoubtedly high-sounding words;—but who 
are they that will do it 1 Who is it that will sacrifice his life for 
his country ? Will the senator who supports a war ? Will the 
writer who declaims upon patriotism ? Will the minister of reli¬ 
gion who recommends the sacrifice 1 Take away war and its 
fictions, and there is not a man of them who will do it. Will he 
sacrifice his life at home ? If the loss of his life in London or at 
York would procure just so much benefit to his country as the loss 
of one soldier’s in the field, would he be willing to lay his head 
upon the block ? Is he willing for such a contribution to his 
country’s good, to resign himself without notice and without re¬ 
membrance to the executioner ? Alas for the fictions of war! 
where is such a man?—Men will not sacrifice their lives at all 
unless it be in war; and they do not sacrifice them in war from 
motives of patriotism. In no rational use of language, therefore, 
can it be said that the soldier “ dies for his country.” 

Not that there may not be or that there have not been persons 
who fight from motives of patriotism. But the occurrence is com¬ 
paratively rare. There may be physicians who qualify themselves 
for practice from motives of benevolence to the sick; or lawyers 
who assume the gown in order to plead for the injured and 
oppressed; but it is an unusual motive, and so is patriotism to the 
soldier. 

And after all, even if all soldiers fought out of zeal for their 
county, what is the merit of Patriotism itself? I do not say that 
it possesses no virtue, but I affirm and hope hereafter to show, that 
its virtue is extravagantly over-rated, 1 and that if every one who 
fought did fight for his country, he would often be actuated only 
by a mode of selfishness,—of selfishness which sacrifices the 
general interests of the species to the interests of a part. 

1 Essay 3, c. 17. 




232 MILITARY FAME NOT DURABLE. Essay 2. 

Such and so low are the qualities which have obtained from 
deluded and deluding millions, fame, honours, glories. A prodi¬ 
gious structure, and almost without a base:—a structure so vast, 
so brilliant, so attractive, that the greater portion of mankind are 
content to gaze in admiration, without any inquiry into its basis 
or any solicitude for its durability. If, however it should be that 
the gorgeous temple will be able to stand only till Christian truth 
and light become predominant, it surely will be wise of those who 
seek a niche in its apartments as their paramount and final good, 
to pause ere they proceed. If they desire a reputation that shall 
outlive guilt and fiction, let them look to the basis of military 
fame. If this fame should one day sink into oblivion and con¬ 
tempt, it will not be the first instance in which wide-spread glory 
has been found to be a glittering bubble that has burst and been 
forgotten. Look at the days of chivalry. Of the ten thousand 
Quixotes of the middle ages, where is now the honour or the 
name 1 Yet poets once sang their praises, and the chronicler of 
their achievements believed he was recording an everlasting fame. 
Where are now the glories of the tournament 1 Glories 

“ Of which all Europe rung from side to side.” 

Where is the champion whom princesses caressed and nobles en¬ 
vied 1 Where are the triumphs of Scotus and Aquinas, and where 
are the folios that perpetuated their fame! The glories of war 
have indeed outlived these: human passions are less mutable than 
human follies; but I am willing to avow the conviction that these 
glories are alike destined to sink into forgetfulness, and that the 
time is approaching when the applauses of heroism and the splen¬ 
dours of conquest will be remembered only as follies and iniquities 
that are past. Let him who seeks for fame other than that which 
an era of Christian purity will allow, make haste ; for every hour 
that he delays its acquisition will shorten its duration. This is 
certain if there be certainty in the promises of Heaven. 

But we must not forget the purpose for which these illustrations 
of the Military Virtues are offered to the reader;—to remind him 
not merely that they are fictions, but fictions which are the occa¬ 
sion of excess of misery to mankind;—to remind him that it is 
his business, from considerations of humanity and of religion, to 
refuse to give currency to the popular delusions,—and to remind 
him that if he does promote them, he promotes, by the act, misery 


Chap. 10. PUBLIC OPINION OF UNCHASTITY. 


233 


in all its forms and guilt in all its excesses. Upon such subjects, 
men are not left to exercise their own inclinations. Morality in¬ 
terposes its commands; and they are commands which if we 
would be moral we must obey. 

Unchastity. No portion of these pages is devoted to the 
enforcement of moral obligations upon this subject, partly because 
these obligations are commonly acknowledged how little soever 
they may be regarded, and partly because, as the reader will have 
seen, the object of these Essays is to recommend those applications 
of the Moral Law which are frequently neglected in the practice 
even of respectable men.—But in reference to the influence of 
public opinion on offences connected with the sexual constitution, 
it will readily be perceived that something should be said, when 
it is considered that some of the popular notions respecting them 
are extravagantly inconsistent with the Moral Law. The want 
of chastity in a woman is visited by public opinion with the 
severest reprobation,—in men, with very little or with none. 
Now morality makes no such distinction. The offence is fre¬ 
quently adverted to in the Christian Scriptures, but I believe there 
is no one precept which intimates that in the estimation of its 
writer there was any difference in the turpitude of the offence 
respectively in men and women. If it be in this volume that we 
are to seek for the principles of the Moral Law, how shall we 
defend the state of popular opinion ? “ If unchastity in a woman, 
whom St. Paul terms the glory of man, be such a scandal and 
dishonour, then certainly in a man, who is both the image and 
glory of God, it must, though commonly not so thought, be much 
more deflowering and dishonourable.” 1 But this departure from 
the Moral Law, like all other departures, produces its legitimate, 
that is, pernicious effects. The sex in whom popular opinion 
reprobates the offences comparatively seldom commits them: the 
sex in whom it tolerates the offences commits them to an enormous 
extent. It is obvious therefore that to promote the present state 
of popular opinion is to promote and to encourage the want of 
chastity in men. 

That some very beneficial consequences result from the strong 
direction of its current against the offence in a woman, is certain. 
The consciousness that upon the retention of her reputation de¬ 
pends so tremendous a stake, is probably a more efficacious motive 

1 Milton: Christian Doctrine, p. 624. 



234 


UNCHASTITY OF MEN. 


Essay 2 . 


to its preservation than any other. The abandonment to which 
the loss of personal integrity generally consigns a woman, is a 
perpetual and fearful warning to the sex. Almost every human 
being deprecates and dreads the general disfavour of mankind; 
and thus, notwithstanding temptations of all kinds, the number of 
women who do incur it is comparatively small. 

But the fact that public opinion is thus powerful in restraining 
one sex, is a sufficient evidence that it would also be powerful in 
restraining the other. Waving for the present the question whe¬ 
ther the popular disapprobation of the crime in a woman is not 
too severe,—if the man who was guilty was forthwith and imme¬ 
diately consigned to infamy; if he was expelled from virtuous 
society, and condemned for the remainder of life, to the lowest 
degradation, how quickly would the frequency of the crime be 
diminished! The reformation amongst men would effect a reform¬ 
ation amongst women too; and the reciprocal temptations which 
each addresses to the other would in a great degree be withdrawn. 
If there were few seducers few would be seduced; and few there¬ 
fore would in turn become the seducers of men. 

But instead of this direction of public opinion, what is the 
ordinary language respecting the man who thus violates the Moral 
Law] We are told that “he is rather unsteady;” that “there 
is a little of the young man about him;” that “he is not free 
from indiscretions.” And what is he likely to think of all this] 
Why, that for a young man to have a little of the young man 
about him is perfectly natural; that to be rather unsteady and a 
little indiscreet is not, to be sure, what one would wish, but that 
it is no great harm and will soon wear off—To employ such lan¬ 
guage is, we say, to encourage and promote the crime, a crime 
which brings more wretchedness and vice into the world than 
almost any other; and for which, if Christianity is to be believed, 
the Universal Judge will call to a severe account. If the imme¬ 
diate agent be obnoxious to punishment, can he who encouraged 
him expect to escape ] I am persuaded that the frequency of this 
gross offence is attributable much more to the levity of public 
notions as founded upon levity of language, than to passion; and 
perhaps therefore some of those who promote this levity may be 
in every respect as criminal as if they committed the crime 
itself. 

Women themselves contribute greatly to the common levity 


Chap. 10 . 


UNCHASTITY OF MEN. 


235 


and to its attendant mischiefs. Many a female who talks in the 
language of abhorrence of an offending sister, and averts her eye 
in contumely if she meets her in the street, is perfectly willing to 
be the friend and intimate of the equally offending man. That 
such women are themselves duped by the vulgar distinction is not 
to be doubted,—but then we are not to imagine that she who 
practises this inconsistency abhors the crime so much as the cri¬ 
minal. Her abhorrence is directed not so much to the violation 
of the Moral Law as to the party by whom it is violated. “ To 
little respect has that woman a claim on the score of modesty, 
though her reputation may be white as the driven snow, who 
smiles on the libertine wdiilst she spurns the victims of his lawless 
appetites.” No No.—If such women would convince us that it 
is the impurity which they reprobate, let them reprobate it wher¬ 
ever it is found: if they would convince us that morals or phi¬ 
lanthropy is their motive when they spurn the sinning sister, let 
them give proof by spurning him who has occasioned her to sin. 

The common style of narrating occurrences and trials of seduc¬ 
tion, &c. in the public prints is very mischievous. These flagitious 
actions are, it seems, a legitimate subject of merriment; one of 
the many droll things which a newspaper contains. It is humili¬ 
ating to see respectable men sacrifice the interests of society to 
such small temptation. They pander to the appetite of the gross 
and idle of the public:—they want to sell their newspapers.— 
Much of this ill-timed merriment is found in the addresses of 
counsel, and this is one mode amongst the many in which the legal 
profession appears to think itself licensed to sacrifice virtue to the 
usages which it has, for its own advantage, adopted. There is 
cruelty as well as other vices in these things. When we take 
into account the intense suffering which prostitution produces upon 
its victims and upon their friends, he who contributes, even thus 
indirect!}', to its extension does not exhibit even a tolerable sensi¬ 
bility to human misery. Even infidelity acknowledges the claims 
of humanity; and therefore if religion and religious morals were 
rejected, this heartless levity of language would still be indefensi¬ 
ble. We call the man benevolent who relieves or diminishes 
wretchedness: what should we call him who extends and in¬ 
creases it ] 

In connection with this subject an observation suggests itself 
respecting the power of Character in affecting the whole moral 



236 


POWER OF CHARACTER.—UNCHASTITY. Essay 2. 


principles of the mind. If loss of character does not follow a 
breach of morality, that breach may be single and alone. The 
agent’s virtue is so far deteriorated, but the breach does not open 
wide the door to other modes of crime. If loss of character does 
follow one offence, one of the great barriers which exclude the flood 
of evil is thrown down; and though the offence which produced 
loss of character be really no greater than the offence with which 
it is retained, yet its consequences upon the moral condition are 
incomparably greater. The reason is that if you take away a 
person’s reputation you take away one of the principal motives to 
propriety of conduct. The labourer who being tempted to steal a 
piece of bacon from the farmer, finds that no one will take him 
into his house or give him employment, and that wherever he goes 
he is pointed at as a thief, is almost as much driven as tempted 
to repeat the crime. His fellow labourer who has much more 
heinously violated the Moral Law by a flagitious intrigue with a 
servant girl, receives from the farmer a few reproaches and a few 
jests, retains his place, never perhaps repeats the offence, and 
subsequently maintains a decent morality. 

It has been said, “ As a woman collects all her virtue into this 
point, the loss of her chastity is generally the destruction of her 
moral principle.” What is to be understood by collecting virtue 
into one point, it is not easy to discover. The truth is, that as 
popular notions have agreed that she who loses her chastity shall 
retain no reputation, a principal motive to the practice of other 
virtues is taken away :—she therefore disregards them; and thus 
by degrees her moral principle is utterly depraved. If public 
opinion was so modified that the world did not abandon a woman 
who has been robbed of chastity, it is probable that a much larger 
number of these unhappy persons would return to virtue. The 
case of men offers illustration and proof. The unchaste man re¬ 
tains his character, or at any rate he retains so much that it is of 
great importance to him to preserve the remainder. Public Opinion 
accordingly holds its strong rein upon other parts of his conduct, 
and by this rein he is restrained from deviating into other walks 
of vice. If the direction of Public Opinion were exchanged, if 
the woman’s offence were held venial and the man’s infamous, the 
world might stand in wonder at the altered scene. We should 
have worthy and respectable prostitutes, while the men whom we 
now invite to our tables and marry to our daughters, would be 


Chap. 10. POWER OF CHARACTER IN LEGAL MEN. 237 

repulsed as the most abandoned of mankind. Of this I have met 
with a curious illustration.—Amongst the North American Indians 
" seduction is regarded as a despicable crime, and more blame is 
attached to the man than to the woman : hence the offence on the 
part of the female is more readily forgotten and forgiven , and she 
finds little or no difficulty in forming a subsequent matrimonial 
alliance when deserted by her betrayer, who is generally regarded 
with distrust and avoided in social intercourse.” 1 

It becomes a serious question how we shall fix upon the degree 
in which diminution of character ought to be consequent upon 
offences against morality. It is not I think too much to say that 
no single crime, once committed, under the influence perhaps of 
strong temptation, ought to occasion such a loss of character as to 
make the individual regard himself as abandoned. I make no 
exceptions, not even for murder. I am persuaded that some mur¬ 
ders are committed with less of personal guilt than is sometimes 
involved in much smaller crimes : but however that may be, there 
is no reason why, even to the murderer the motives and the ave¬ 
nues to amendment should be closed. Still less ought they to be 
closed against the female who is perhaps the victim-—strictly the 
victim —of seduction. Yet if the public do not express, and 
strongly express, their disapprobation, we have seen that they 
practically encourage offences. In this difficulty I know of no 
better and no other guide than that system which the tenor of 
Christianity prescribes,—Abhorrence of the evil and commisera¬ 
tion of him who commits it. The union of these dispositions will 
be likely to produce, with respect to offences of all kinds, that 
conduct which most effectually tends to discountenance them, 
while it as effectually tends to reform the offenders. These 
however are not the dispositions which actuate the public in 
measuring their reprobation of unchastity in women. Some¬ 
thing probably might rightly be deducted from the severity with 
which their offence is visited: much may be rightly altered in the 
motives which induce this severity. And as to men, much should 
be added to the quantum of reprobation, and much correction 
should be applied to the principles by which it is regulated. 

Another illustration of the power of character, as such, to cor¬ 
rupt the principles or to preserve them, is furnished in the general 
respectability of the legal profession. We have seen that this 

1 Hunter’s Memoirs. 




238 


DISTRIBUTION OF FAME. 


Essay 2 . 


profession, habitually and as a matter of course, violates many 
and great points of morality, and yet I know not that their cha¬ 
racter as men is considerably inferior to that of others in similar 
walks of life. Abating the privileges under which the profession 
is presumed to act, many of their legal procedures are as flagitious 
as some of those which send unprivileged professions to the bar 
of justice. How then does it happen that the moral offenders 
whom we imprison, and try, and punish, are commonly in their 
general conduct depraved, whilst the equal offenders whom we do 
not punish are not thus depraved ] The prisoner has usually lost 
much of his reputation before he becomes a thief, and at any rate 
he loses it with the act. But a man may enter the customary 
legal course with a fair name: Public Opinion has not so repro¬ 
bated that course as to make it necessary to its pursuit that a man 
should already have become depraved. Whilst engaged in the 
ordinary legal practice he may be unjust at his desk or at the bar, 
he may there commit actions essentially and greatly wicked, and 
yet when he steps into his parlour his character is not reproached. 
A jest or two upon his adroitness is probably all the intimation 
that he receives that other men do not regard it with perfect com¬ 
placency. Such a man will not pick your pocket the more readily 
because he has picked a hundred pockets at the bar. This were 
to sacrifice his character : the other does not; and accordingly all 
those motives to rectitude which the desire of preserving reputa¬ 
tion supplies, operate to restrain him from other offences. If 
public opinion were rectified, if character were lost by actual 
violations of the Moral Law, some of the ordinary processes of 
legal men would be practised only by those who had little charac¬ 
ter to lose.—Not indeed that Public Opinion is silent respecting 
the habitual conduct of the profession. A secret disapprobation 
manifestly exists, of which sufficient evidence may be found even 
in the lampoons, and satires, and proverbs, which pass currently 
in the world. Unhappily, the disapprobation is too slight, and 
especially it is too slightly expressed. When it is thus expressed, 
the lawyer sometimes unites, with at least apparent good humour, 
in the jest,—feeling perhaps, that conduct which cannot be shown 
to be virtuous, it is politic to keep without the pale of the vices 
by a joke. 

Fame. The observations which were offered respecting con¬ 
tributing to the passion for glory, involve kindred doctrines re- 


Chap. 10 . 


FAULTS OF GREAT MEN. 


239 


specting contributions generally to individual Fame. If the pre¬ 
tensions of those with whose applauses the popular voice is filled, 
were examined by the only proper test, the test which Christianity 
allows, it would be found that multitudes whom the world thus 
honours must be shorn of their beams. Before Bacon’s daylight 
of truth, Poets and Statesmen and Philosophers without number 
would hide their diminished heads. The mighty indeed would be 
fallen. Yet it is for the acquisition of this fame that multitudes 
toil. It is their motive to action; and they pursue that conduct 
which will procure fame whether it ought to procure it or not. 
The inference as to the duties of individuals in contributing to 
fame is obvious. 

“ The profligacy of a man of fashion is looked upon with much 
less contempt and aversion than that of a man of meaner condi¬ 
tion.” 1 It ought to be looked upon with much more.—But men 
of fashion are not our concern. Our business is with men of 
talent, and genius, with the eminent and the great. The profli¬ 
gacy of these, too, is regarded with much less of aversion than 
that of less gifted men. To be great, whether intellectually or 
otherwise, is often like a passport to impunity; and men talk as 
if we ought to speak leniently of the faults of a man who delights 
us by his genius or his talent. This precisely is the man whose 
faults we should be most prompt to mark, because he is the man 
whose faults are most seducing to the world. Intellectual superi¬ 
ority brings, no doubt, its congenial temptations. Let these affect 
our judgments of the man, but let them not diminish our reproba¬ 
tion of his offences. So to extenuate the individual as to apolo¬ 
gize for his faults, is to injure the cause of virtue in one of its 
most vulnerable parts. “ Oh ! that I could see in men who oppose 
tyranny in the state, a disdain of the tyranny of low passions in 
themselves. I cannot reconcile myself to the idea of an immoral 
patriot, or to that separation of private from public virtue which 
some men think to be possible.” 2 Probably it is possible: pro¬ 
bably there may be such a thing as an immoral patriot: for public 
opinion applauds the patriotism without condemning the immo¬ 
rality. If men constantly made a fit deduction from their praises 
of public virtue on account of its association with private vice, 
the union would frequently be severed; and he who hoped for 
celebrity from the public would find it needful to be good as well 
1 Ad. Smith: Theo. Mor. Sent. 2 Dr. Price: Revolution Serm. 




240 


FAULTS OF GREAT MEN. 


Essay 2 . 


as great. He who applauds human excellence and really admires 
it, should endeavour to make its examples as pure and perfect as 
he can. He should hold out a motive to consistency of excellence, 
by evincing that nothing else can obtain praise un mingled with 
censure. This endeavour should be constant and uniform. The 
hearer should never be allowed to suppose that in appreciating a 
person’s merits, we are indifferent to his faults. It has been com¬ 
plained of one of our principal works of Periodical Literature, 
that amongst its many and ardent praises of Shakspeare, it has 
almost never alluded to his indecencies. The silence is reprehen¬ 
sible : for what is a reader to conclude but that indecency is a 
very venial offence] Under such circumstances, not to be with 
morality is to be against it. Silence is positive mischief. People 
talk to us of liberality, and of allowances for the aberrations of 
genius, and for the temptations of greatness. It is well. Let the 
allowances be made.—But this is frequently only affectation of 
candour. It is not that we are lenient to failings but that we are 
indifferent to vice. It is not even enlightened benevolence to ge¬ 
nius or greatness itself. The faults and vices with which talented 
men are chargeable deduct greatly from their own happiness, and 
it cannot be doubted that their misdeeds have been the more wil¬ 
lingly committed from the consciousness that apologists would be 
found amongst the admiring world. It is sufficient to make that 
world knit its brow in anger, to insist upon the moral demerits of 
a Robert Burns. Pathetic and voluble extenuations are instantly 
urged. There are extenuations of such a man’s vices, and they 
ought to be regarded : but no extenuations can remove the charge 
of voluntary and intentional violations of morality. Let us not 
hear of the enthusiasm of poetry. Men do not write poetry as 
they chatter with their neighbours : they sit down to a deliberate 
act ; and he who in his verses offends against morals, intentionally 
and deliberately offends. 

After all, posterity exercises some justice in its award. When 
the first glitter and the first applauses are past,—when death and 
a few years of sobriety have given opportunity to the public mind 
to attend to truth, it makes a deduction, though not a due deduc¬ 
tion, for the shaded portions of the great man’s character. It is 
not forgotten that Marlborough was avaricious, that Bacon w r as 
mean; and there are great names of the present day of whom it 
will not be forgotten that they had deep and dark shades in their 


241 


Chap. 10. NEWTON.—VOLTAIRE.—THE PRESS. 

reputation. It is perhaps wonderful that those who seek for fame 
are so indifferent to these deductions from its amount. Supposing 
the intellectual pretensions of Newton and Voltaire were equal, 
how different is their fame! How many and how great qualifica¬ 
tions are employed in praising the one! How few and how small 
in praising the other! Editions of the works of some of our first 
writers are advertised, “ in which the exceptionable passages are 
expunged.” How foolish, how uncalculating even as to celebrity, 
to have inserted these passages! To write in the hope of fame, 
works which posterity will mutilate before they place them in 
their libraries!—Charles James Fox said that if, during his ad¬ 
ministration, they could effect the abolition of the slave trade, it 
“ would entail more true glory upon them, and more honour upon 
their country, than any other transaction in which they could be 
engaged.” 1 If this be true, (and who will dispute it I) ministers 
usually provide very ill for their reputation with posterity. How 
anxiously devoted to measures comparatively insignificant! How 
phlegmatic respecting those calls of humanity and public princi¬ 
ple, a regard of which will alone secure the permanent honours of 
the world! It may safely be relied upon that “ much more impe¬ 
rishable is the greatness of goodness than the greatness of power,” 2 
or the greatness of talent. And the difference will progressively 
increase. If, as there is reason to believe, the moral condition of 
mankind will improve, their estimate of the good portion of a 
great man’s character will be enhanced, and their reprobation of 
the bad will become more intense,—until at length it will perhaps 
be found, respecting some of those who now receive the applauses 
of the world, that the balance of public opinion is against them, 
and that, in the universal estimate of merit and demerit, they will 
be ranked on the side of the latter. These motives to virtue in 
great men are not addressed to the Christian: he has higher mo¬ 
tives and better: but since it is more desirable that a man should 
act well from imperfect motives than that he should act ill, we 
urge him to regard the integrity of his fame. 

The Press. It is manifest that if the obligations which have 
been urged apply to those who speak, they apply with tenfold 
responsibility to those who write. The man who in talking to 
half a dozen of his acquaintance, contributes to confuse or pervert 
their moral notions, is accountable for the mischief which he may 

1 Fell’s Memoirs. 2 Sir R. K. Porter. 


R 




242 


INFLUENCE OF NEWSPAPERS. 


Essay 2 . 


do to six persons. He who writes a book containing similar lan¬ 
guage is answerable for a so much greater amount of mischief as 
the number of his readers may exceed six, and as the influence of 
books exceeds that of conversation by the evidence of greater 
deliberation in their contents and by the greater attention which 
is paid by the reader. It is not a light matter, even in this view, 
to write a book for the public. We very insufficiently consider 
the amount of the obligations and the extent of the responsibility 
which we entail upon ourselves. Every one knows the power of 
the press in influencing the public mind. He that publishes five 
hundred copies of a book of which any part is likely to derange 
the moral judgment of a reader, contributes materially to the pro¬ 
pagation of evil. If each of his books is read by four persons, 
he endangers the infliction of this evil, whatever be its amount, 
upon two thousand minds. Who shall tell the sum of the mis¬ 
chief] In this country the periodical press is a powerful engine 
for evil or for good. The influence of the contents of one number 
of a newspaper may be small, but it is perpetually recurring. 
The editor of a journal of which no more than a thousand copies 
are circulated in a week, and each of which is read by half a 
dozen persons, undertakes in a year a part of the moral guidance 
of thirty thousand individuals. Of some daily papers the number 
of readers is so great, that in the course of twelve months they 
may influence the opinions and the conduct of six or eight mil¬ 
lions of men. To say nothing therefore of editors who intention¬ 
ally mislead and vitiate the public, and remembering with what 
carelessness respecting the moral tendency of articles a newspaper 
is filled, it may safely be concluded that some creditable editors 
do harm in the world to an extent, in comparison with which rob¬ 
beries and treasons are as nothing. 

It is not easy to imagine the sum of advantages which would 
result if the periodical press not only excluded that which does 
harm but preferred that which does good. Not that grave morali¬ 
ties, not, especially, that religious disquisitions, are to be desired; 
but that every reader should see and feel that the editor main¬ 
tained an allegiance to virtue and to truth. There is hardly any 
class of topics in which this allegiance may not be manifested, 
and manifested without any incongruous associations. You may 
relate the common occurrences of the day in such a manner as to 
do either good or evil. The trial of a thief, the particulars of a 



Chap. 10 . 


HISTORY.—ITS DEFECTS. 


*243 


conflagration, the death of a statesman, the criticism of a debate, 
and a hundred other matters, may be recorded so as to exercise a 
moral influence over the reader for the better or the worse. That 
the influence is frequently for the worse needs no proof; and it is 
so much the less defensible because it may be changed to the con¬ 
trary without a word, directly, respecting morals or religion. 

However, newspapers do much more good than harm, especi¬ 
ally in politics. They are in this country one of the most vigor¬ 
ous and beneficial instruments of political advantage. They effect 
incalculable benefit both in checking the statesman who would 
abuse power, and in so influencing the public opinion as to prepare 
it for, and therefore to render necessary, an amelioration of politi¬ 
cal and civil institutions. The great desideratum is enlargement 
of views and purity of principle. We want in editorial labours 
less of partizanship, less of petty squabbles about the worthless 
discussions of the day : we want more of the ’philosophy of poli¬ 
tics, more of that grasping intelligence which can send a reader’s 
reflections from facts to principles. Our Journals are, to what 
they ought to be, what a chronicle of the middle ages is to a phi¬ 
losophical history. The disjointed fragments of political intelli¬ 
gence ought to be connected by a sort of enlightened running 
commentary. There is talent enough embarked in some of these; 
but the talent too commonly expends itself upon subjects and in 
speculations which are of little interest beyond the present week. 

And here we a're reminded of that miserable direction to public 
opinion which is given in Historical Works. 1 I do not speak of 
party bias, though that is sufficiently mischievous; but of the 
irrational selection by historians of comparatively unimportant 
things to fill the greater portion of their pages. People exclaim 
that the history of Europe is little more than a history of human 
violence and wickedness. But they confound History with that 
portion of history which historians record. That portion is doubt¬ 
less written almost in blood,—but it is a very small, and in truth 
a very subordinate portion. The intrigues of cabinets; the rise 
and fall of ministers; wars, and battles, and victories, and defeats ; 
the plunder of provinces; the dismemberment of empires ;—these 
are the things which fill the pages of the historian, but these are 
not the things which compose the history of man. He that would 

1 “ Next to the guilt of those who commit wicked actions is that of the historian 
who glosses them over and excuses them.” Southey : Book of the Church, c. 8. 




244 


HISTORY.—ITS POWER. 


Essay 2 . 


acquaint himself with the history of his species, must apply to 
other and to calmer scenes. “ It is a cruel mortification, in search¬ 
ing for what is instructive in the history of past times, to find that 
the exploits of conquerors who have desolated the earth and the 
freaks of tyrants who have rendered nations unhappy, are recorded 
with minute and often disgusting accuracy, while the discovery of 
useful arts and the progress of the most beneficial branches of 
commerce, are passed over in silence and suffered to sink into ob¬ 
livion.” 1 Even a more cruel mortification than this is to find 
recorded almost nothing respecting the intellectual and moral his¬ 
tory of man. You are presented with five or six weighty volumes 
which profess to be a History of England; and after reading them 
to the end you have hardly found any thing to satisfy that inte¬ 
resting question,—How has my country been enabled to advance 
from barbarism to civilization; to come forth from darkness into 
light? Yes, by applying philosophy to facts yourself, you may 
attain some, though it be but an imperfect, reply. But the histo¬ 
rian himself should have done this. The facts of history, simply 
as such, are of comparatively little concern. He is the true his¬ 
torian of man who regards mere facts rather as the illustrations 
of history than as its subject matter. As to the history of cabinets 
and courts, of intrigue and oppression, of campaigns and generals, 
we can almost spare it all. It is of wonderfully little consequence 
whether they are remembered or not, except as lessons of instruc¬ 
tion,—except as proofs of the evils of bad principles and bad in¬ 
stitutions. For any other purpose, Blenheim! we can spare thee. 
And Louis, even Louis “ le grand!” we can spare thee. And 
thy successor and his Pompadour! we can spare ye all. 

Much power is in the hands of the historian if he will exert it: 
if he will make the occurrences of the past subservient to the elu¬ 
cidations of the principles of human nature,—of the principles of 
political truth,—of the rules of political rectitude;—if he will 
refuse to make men ambitious of power by filling his pages with 
the feats or freaks of men in power;—if he will give no currency 
to the vulgar delusions about glory:—if he will do these things, 
and such as these, he will deserve well of his country and of man ; 
for he will contribute to that rectification of Public Opinion which, 
when it is complete and determinate, will be the most powerful 
of all earthly agents in ameliorating the social condition of the 
world, 

1 Robertson: Disq. on Anet. Comm, of India. 




CHAPTER XI. 


INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION. 

“ It is no less true than lamentable, that hitherto the education 
proper for civil and active life has heen neglected; that nothing 
has been done to enable those who are actually to conduct the 
affairs of the world, to carry them on in a manner worthy of the 
age and country in which they live, by communicating to them the 
knowledge and the spirit of their age and country.” 1 —“ Know¬ 
ledge does not consist in being able to read books, but in under¬ 
standing one’s business and duty in life.”—“ Most writers have 
considered the subject of Education as relative to that portion of 
it only which applies to learning; but the first object of all, in 
every nation, is to make a man a good member of society.”— 
“ Education consists in learning what makes a man useful, respect¬ 
able, and happy, in the line for which he is destined.” 2 

If these propositions are true it is evident that the systems of 
Education which obtain, need great and almost total reformation. 
What does a boy, in the middle class of society, learn at school 
of the knowledge and the spirit of his age and country ] When 
he has left school, how much does he understand of the business 
and duty of life 1 

Education is one of those things which Lord Bacon would de¬ 
scribe as having lain almost unaltered “upon the dregs of time.” 
We still fancy that we educate our children when we give them, 
as its principal constituent, that same instruction which was given 
before England had a literature of its own, and when Greek and 
Latin contained almost the sum of human knowledge. Then the 
knowledge of Greek and Latin was called, and not unjustly called, 
Learning. It was the learning which procured distinction and 
celebrity. A sort of dignity and charm was thrown around the 

1 Art. 4; Education. West. Rev. No. 1. 2 Playfair: Causes of Decline of 

Nations, p. 97, 98. 227. 





246 


ANCIENT CLASSICS. 


Essay 2 . 


attainments and the word which designated them. That charm 
has continued to operate to the present hour, and we still call him 
a learned man who is skilful in Latin and Greek. Yet Latin and 
Greek contain an extremely small portion of that knowledge 
which the world now possesses; an extremely small portion of 
that which it is of most consequence to acquire. It would he well 
for society if this word Learning could he forgotten, or if we 
could make it the representative of other and very different ideas. 
But the delusion is continually propagated. The higher ranks of 
society give the tone to the notions of the rest; and the higher 
classes are educated at Westminster and Eton, and Cambridge 
and Oxford. At all these the languages which have ceased to be 
the languages of a living people,—the authors which communi¬ 
cate, relatively, little knowledge that is adapted to the present 
affairs of man,—are made the first and foremost articles of Educa¬ 
tion. To be familiar with these, is still to be a “ learned” man. 
Inferior institutions imitate the example; and the parent who 
knows his son will be, like himself, a merchant or manufacturer, 
thinks it almost indispensible that he should “ learn Latin.” 

It may reasonably be doubted whether to even the higher ranks 
of society, this preference of ancient learning is wise. It may 
reasonably be doubted whether, even at Oxford a literary revolu¬ 
tion would not be an useful revolution. Indeed the very circum¬ 
stance that the system of education there, is not essentially 
different from what it was centuries ago, is almost a sufficient 
evidence that an alteration is needed. If the circumstances and 
the contexture of human society is altered,—if the boundaries of 
knowledge are very greatly extended, and if that knowledge which 
is now applicable to the affairs of life is extremely different from 
that which was applicable long ages ago,—it surely is plain that 
a system which has not, or has only slightly, accommodated 
itself to the new condition and new exigencies of human affairs, 
cannot be a good system, cannot be a reasonable and judicious 
system. How stands the fact? When young men leave college 
to take part in the concerns of active life, how much assistance 
do they derive from classical literature 1 Look at the House of 
Commons. How much does this literature contribute to a mem¬ 
ber’s legislating wisely upon questions of Political Economy, of 
Jurisprudence, of Taxation, of Reform] Or how much does it 
contribute to the capability of any other class of men to serve 


ANCIENT CLASSICS. 


247 


Chap. 11. 


their families, their country, or mankind 1 I speak not of those 
professions to which a dead language may be necessary. A phy¬ 
sician learns Latin as he attends the dissecting room : it is a part 
of his system of preparation for his pursuits in life. Even with 
the professions, indeed, the need of a dead language is factitious. 
It is necessary only because usage has made it so. But I speak of 
that portion of mankind who, being exempt from the necessity for 
toil, fill the various gradations of society from that of the prince to 
the private gentleman. Select what rank or what class you 
please, and ask how much its members are indebted to ancient 
learning for their capability to discharge their duties as parents, 
as men, or as citizens of the state,—the answer is literally, 
“ Almost nothing.” Now this is a serious answer, and involves 
serious consequences. A young man, when he enters upon the 
concerns of active life, has to set about acquiring new kinds of 
knowledge, knowledge totally dissimilar to the greater part of 
that which his “ education” gave him; and the knowledge which 
education did give him he is obliged practically to forget,—to lay 
it aside : it is something that is not adapted to the condition and 
the wants of society. But for what purpose are people educated 
unless it be to prepare them for this condition and these wants 1 
Or how can that be a judicious system which does not effect these 
purposes 1 

That no advantages result from the study of ancient clas¬ 
sics it would be idle to maintain. But this is not the question. 
The question is, Whether so many advantages result from this 
study as from others that might be substituted; and I am per¬ 
suaded that we shall become more and more willing to answer, 
No. With respect to the sum of knowledge which the works of 
antiquity convey, as compared with that which is conveyed by 
modern literature, the disproportion is great in the extreme. To 
say that the modern is a hundred times greater than the ancient, is 
to keep far from the language of exaggeration. And to say the 
truth, the majority of those who are educated at college leave it with 
but an imperfect acquaintance with those languages which they have 
spent years in professing to acquire. There are some men skilled 
in the languages; there are some “ learned” men; but the very 
circumstance that great skill procures celebrity, is an evidence 
that great skill is rare. Amongst educated laymen the number 
is very small of those whose knowledge of Latin bears any re- 




248 LONDON UNIVERSITY.-—BOARDING SCHOOLS. Essay 2. 

spectable proportion to their knowledge of their own language,— 
of that language which they have hardly professed to learn at all. 
If the London University should be successfully established, it is 
probable that at least one collateral benefit will result from it. 
The wide range of subjects which it proposes to embrace in its 
system of education, will possess an influence upon other institu¬ 
tions; and the time may arrive when the impulse of public 
opinion shall reduce the mathematics of one of our Universities 
and the classics of both, to such a relative station amongst the 
objects of human study as shall be better adapted to the purposes 
of human life. 

If considerations like these apply to the preference of classical 
learning by those classes of society who can devote many years to 
the general purposes of education, much more do they apply to 
those who fill the middle ranks. Yet amongst these ranks the 
charm of the fiction has immense power. It has descended from 
Universities to boarding schools of thirty pounds a year; and the 
parent complacently pays the extra “three guineas” in order that 
his boy may “ learn Latin.” We affirm that the knowledge of 
Latin and Greek is all but useless to these boys, and that if the 
knowledge were useful, they do not acquire it. What are the sta¬ 
tions which they are about to fill 1 One is to be a manufacturer, 
and one a banker, and one a merchant, and one a ship-owner, and 
one will underwrite at Lloyd’s, and one will be a consul at Toulon. 
Nay we might go lower and say, one will be a tanner, and one 
a draper, and one a corn-factor. Yet these boys must learn 
Latin, and perhaps Greek too. And they do actually spend day 
after day, and perhaps year after year, upon “ Hie hsec hoc,” 
—“ Propria quse maribus,”—■“ As in prsesenti,”—“ Et, and; 
cum, when;” and the like. What conceivable relationship do 
these things bear to making steam engines, or discounting bills, or 
shipping cargoes, or making leather, or selling cloth 1 None. But 
it will be said, What relationship does any merely literary pur¬ 
suit bear 1 Or why should a merchant’s son read Paradise Lost ] 
Such questions conduct us to the just view of the case ; and ac¬ 
cordingly we answer, Let these young persons attend to literature, 
but let it be literature of the most expedient kind. Let them read 
Paradise Lost. Why 1 Because it is delightful, and because they 
can do it zoithout learning a language in order to acquire the 
power : if Paradise Lost existed only in Arabic, I should think it 


Chap, 11. SCHOOLBOYS DO NOT LEARN LATIN, &c. 249 


preposterous to teach young persons Arabic in order that they 
might read it. To those who are to fill the active stations of life, 
Literature must always be a subordinate concern; and it would 
be vain to deny that our own language possesses a sufficient store 
for them without learning others to increase it. 

But indeed the children of the middle classes do not learn the 
languages. They do not learn them so as to be able to appreciate 
the merits and the beauties of ancient literature. Ask the boys them¬ 
selves. Ask them whether they could hold an hour’s conversation 
with Cicero if he should stand before them. The very supposition 
is absurd. Or can they read and enjoy Cicero as they read and 
enjoy Addison ? No. They do not learn the ancient languages. 
They pore over rules and exercises, and syntax and quantities, but 
as to learning the language, in the same sense as that in which it 
may be said they learn English, there is not one in a hundred nor 
probably in ten thousand who does it. Yet unless a person does 
learn a language so as to read it, at least, with perfect facility, what 
becomes of the use of the study as a means of elevating the taste 1 
This is one of the advantages which are attributed to the study 
of the classics. But without inquiring whether the taste might 
not be as well cultivated by other means, one short consideration 
is sufficient: that the taste is not cultivated by studying the clas¬ 
sics but by mastering them,—by acquiring such a familiarity with 
these works as enables us to appreciate their excellencies. This 
familiarity, or any thing that approaches to this familiarity, school¬ 
boys do not acquire. Playfair makes a computation from which 
he concludes that in ordinary boarding schools, “ not above one in 
a hundred learns to read even Latin decently well; that is, one 
good reader for every ten thousand pounds expended. As to 
speaking Latin,” he adds, “ perhaps one out of a thousand may 
learn that: so that there is a speaker for each sum of one hun¬ 
dred thousand pounds spent on the language.” 1 

Then it is said that the act of studying the ancient languages 
exercises the memory, cultivates the habit of attention, and 
teaches, too, the art of reasoning. Grant all this. Cannot then 
the memory be exercised as well by acquiring valuable knowledge, 
as by acquiring a mere knowledge of words 1 Would the memory 
lose any thing by affixing ideas to the words it learnt 1 The same 
questions apply to those who urge the habit of attention, and to all 

1 Inq. Causes of Decline of Nations, p. 224. 




250 


ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 


Essay 2 . 


those advocates of the study who insist upon the exercise which it 
gives to the mind. We do not question the utility of this exercise; 
we only say that' while the mind is exercised it should also be 
fed.—-That such topics of advocacy are resorted to is itself an indi¬ 
cation of the questionable utility of the study. No one thinks it 
necessary to adduce such topics as reasons for learning Addition 
and Subtraction. 

The intelligent reader will perceive, that the ground upon which 
these objections to classical studies are urged, is that they occupy 
time which might be more beneficially employed. If the period of 
education were long enough to learn the ancient languages in 
addition to the more beneficial branches of knowledge, our inquiry 
would be of another kind. But the period is not long enough : a 
selection must be made ; and that which it has been our endeavour 
to show is, that in selecting the classics we make an unwise 
selection. 

The remarks which follow will be understood as applying to the 
middle ranks of society; that is, to the ranks in which the greatest 
sum of talent and virtue resides, and by which the business of the 
world is principally carried on.—If we take up a card of terms of 
an ordinary Boarding School, we probably meet with an enume¬ 
ration something like this :—“ Reading, Writing, Arithmetic, 
English Grammar, Composition, History, Geography, Use of the 
Globes, &c.”; besides the “ accomplishments” and French, Greek, 
and Latin. “ Education consists in learning what makes a man 
useful, respectable, and happy in the line for which he is destined.” 
Useful, respectable, and happy, not merely in his counting house 
but in his parlour ; not merely in his own house but amongst his 
neighbours and as a member of civilized society. Now surely the 
list of subjects which are set down above is, to say the least, very 
imperfect. Besides reading, writing, and arithmetic, what is the 
amount of knowledge which it conveys! English Grammar: — 
This is in fact not learnt by committing to memory lessons in the 
“grammar book.” Composition:—This is of consequence; although, 
as school economy is now managed, it makes a better appearance 
on the master’s card than on the boy’s paper. History, Geography, 
and the Globe problems are of great interest and value ; and the 
great unhappiness is that such studies are postponed to others of 
comparatively little worth. 

Since human knowledge is so much more extensive than the 


Chap. 11. FORMAL STUDY OF RULES OF GRAMMAR. 251 

opportunity of individuals for acquiring it, it becomes of the 
greatest importance so to economise the opportunity as to make it 
subservient to the acquisition of as large and as valuable a portion 
as we can. It is not enough to show that a given branch of edu¬ 
cation is useful: you must show that it is the most useful that can 
be selected. Remembering this, I think it would be expedient to 
dispense with the formal study of English Grammar,—a proposi¬ 
tion which I doubt not many a teacher will hear with wonder and 
disapprobation. We learn the grammar in order that we may 
learn English; and we learn English whether we study grammars 
or not. Especially we shall acquire a competent knowledge of our 
own language if other departments of our education were im¬ 
proved. A boy learns more English Grammar by joining in an 
hour’s conversation with educated people, than in poring for an 
hour over Murray or Horne Tooke. If he is accustomed to such 
society and to the perusal of well written books, he will learn 
English Grammar though he never sees a word about syntax; and 
if he is not accustomed to such society and such reading, the 
“ grammar books” at a boarding school will not teach it. Men 
learn their own language by habit and not by rules: and this is 
just what we might expect; for the grammar of a language is 
itself formed from the prevalent habits of speech and writing. 
A compiler of grammar first observes these habits, and then 
makes his rules: but if a person is himself familiar with the 
habits, why study the rules 1 I say nothing of grammar as a gene¬ 
ral science; because, although the philosophy of language be a 
valuable branch of human knowledge, it were idle to expect that 
schoolboys should understand it. The objection is, to the system 
of attempting to teach children formally that which they will learn 
practically without teaching. A grammar of Murray’s lies before 
me, of which the leaves are worn into rags by being “ learnt.” I 
find the child is to learn that “ words are articulate sounds, used 
by common consent as signs of our ideas.” Now I am persuaded 
that to nine out of every ten who “ get this lesson by heart,” it 
conveys little more information than if the sentence were in 
Esquimaux. They do not know, with any distinctness, what 
“ articulate sounds” means,—nor what the phrase “ common con¬ 
sent” means,—nor what “signs of ideas” means; and yet they 
know, without learning, all that this formidable sentence proposes 




252 


SCIENCE AND LITERATURE. 


Essay 2 . 


to teach. They know perfectly well that they speak to their bro¬ 
thers and sisters in order to convey their ideas.—Again : “ An 
improper dipthong has but one of the vowels sounded; as ea in 
eagle, oa in boat/’ Does not every child who can spell the words 
eagle and boat, know this without hearing a word about improper 
dipthongs 1 This species of instruction is like that of a man who, 
seeing a boy running after a hoop, should stop him to make him 
learn by heart that in order to run he must use, in a certain order, 
flexors and extensors and the tendon Achilles. A little girl runs to 
her mother and says, “Mary has given me Cowper’s Task: This 
is what I wanted.” But still the little girl must learn from her 
“ grammar book,” how to use the word what. And this is the 
process :— 11 What is a kind of compound relative, including both 
the antecedent and the relative, and is equivalent to that which : 
as, This is what I wanted!” It really is wonderful that such a 
system of instruction should be continued,—a system which most 
laboriously attempts to teach that which a child will learn without 
teaching, and which is almost utterly abortive in itself. Children 
do not learn to speak and write correctly by learning lessons like 
these. A gentleman told me the other day that he learnt one of 
Murray’s grammars until he could actually repeat it from begin¬ 
ning to end; and he does not recollect that one particle of know¬ 
ledge was conveyed to his mind by it. 

Whilst the attempt thus to teach grammar is so needless and so 
futile, it occupies a great deal of a boy’s time; and by doing this 
it does great mischief, since his time is precious indeed. He might 
learn a great deal more of grammar by reading useful and inter¬ 
esting books and by conversation respecting science and literature 
with an educated master, than by acquiring grammatical rules by 
rote. Grammar would be a collateral acquisition : he would learn 
it whilst he was learning other important things. 

In general, Science is preferable to Literature,—the knowledge 
of things to the knowledge of words. It is not by literature nor by 
merely literary men that the business of human society is now car¬ 
ried on. “ Directly and immediately, we have risen to the station 
which we occupy, not by literature, not by the knowledge of extinct 
languages, but by the sciences of politics, of law, of public economy, 
of commerce, of mathematics; by astronomy, by chemistry, by 
mechanics, by natural history. It is by these that we are destined 


Chap. 11. ORTHOGRAPHY—WRITING—READING. 


253 


to rise yet higher. These constitute the business of society, and 
in these ought we to seek for the objects of education/’ 1 

Yet at school how little do our children learn of these! The 
reader will ask, What system of education we would recommend; 
and although the writer of these pages can make no pretensions 
to accuracy of knowledge upon the subject, he thinks that an im¬ 
proved system would embrace, even in ordinary boarding schools, 
such topics of instruction as these : 

Reading—Writing—Common Arithmetic—Book keeping. 

Geography—Natural History, embracing Zoology, Botany, Mineralogy, &c. 

History of Mankind, especially the History of recent times. 

Biography, particularly of moderns. 

Natural Philosophy, embracing Mechanics, Pneumatics, Optics, &c.; and 
illustrated by experiments : and embracing also Chemistry with experi¬ 
ments—Galvanism, &c. 

Geology—Land Measuring-—Familiar Geometry. 

Elements of Political Science; embracing Principles of Religious and Civil 
Liberty; of Civil Obedience; of Penal Law and the general Administra¬ 
tion of Justice; of Political Economy, &c. 

If the reader should think that boys under sixteen can acquire 
little or no knowledge of these multifarious subjects, he is to 
remember what the enumeration excludes, and how vast a propor¬ 
tion of a boy’s time the excluded subjects now occupy. The whole, 
perhaps, of all his forenoons is now devoted to Latin—Latin is 
excluded. An hour before breakfast is probably spent in learning 
sentences in a book of Grammar :— this mode of learning Grammar 
is excluded. The amount of knowledge which a boy might 
acquire during these hours is very great. The formal learning of 
spelling does not appear in our enumeration. In many schools, 
this occupies a considerable portion of every week, if not of every¬ 
day. Spelling may be learnt, and in fact is learnt, like grammar, 
by habit. A person reads a book, and without thinking of it, 
insensibly learns to spell: that is, he perceives, when he writes a 
word incorrectly, that it does not bear the same appearance as he 
has been accustomed to observe. Some persons when they are in 
doubt as to the orthography of a word, write it in two or three 
ways, and their eye tells them which is correct. Here again is a 
considerable saving of time. Nor is this all. I would not formally 
teach boys to write. I would not give them a Copy Book to write, 
hour after hour, Reward sweetens Labour and Industry is praised ; 

1 Art. 9. Outlines of Philosophical Education, &c. West. Rev. No. 7, 




254 GEOGRAPHY.—MAPS—NATURAL HISTORY. Essay 2. 


but, since they would have occasion to write many things in the 
pursuit of their other studies, I would require them to write those 
things fairly :—that is, once more, they should learn to write whilst 
they are learning to think. Nor would I formally teach them to 
read; but since they would have many books to peruse, they 
should frequently read them audibly; and by degrees would learn 
to read them well. And they would be much more likely to read 
them well, when the books were themselves delightful than when 
they went up to the master’s desk, to “read their lessons.” Learn¬ 
ing “ words and meanings,” as the schoolboy calls it, is another of 
the modes in which much time is wasted. The conversation to 
which a young person listens, the books which he reads, are the 
best teachers of words and meanings. He cannot help learning the 
meaning of words if they frequently and familiarly occur; and if they 
rarely occur, he will gain very little by learning columns of Entick. 

With this exclusion of some subjects of study, and alteration of 
the mode of pursuing others, a schoolboy’s time would really be 
much more than doubled. Every year would practically be 
expanded into two or three. Let us refer then to some of the 
subjects of Education which have been proposed. 

In teaching Geography, too little use is made of maps and too 
much of books. A boy will learn more by examining a good map 
and by listening to a few intelligible explanations, than by weary¬ 
ing himself with pages of geographical lessons. Lesson-learning 
is the bane of education. It disgusts and wearies young persons; 
and except with extreme watchfulness on the part of the teacher, 
is almost sure to degenerate into learning words without ideas. 
It is not an easy thing for a child to learn half a dozen paragraphs 
full of proper names, describing by what mountains and seas half 
a dozen countries are bounded. Yet with much less labour, he 
might learn the facts more perfectly by his eye, and with less pro¬ 
bability of their passing from his memory. The lessons will not 
be remembered except as they convey ideas. 

To most if not to all young persons, Natural History is a 
delightful study. Zoology, if accompanied by good plates, con¬ 
veys permanent and useful knowledge. Such a book as Wood’s 
Zoography is a more valuable medium of education than three- 
fourths of the professed school books in existence. 

History and Biography are, if it be not the fault of the teacher 
or his books, delightful also. Modern times should always be 


Chap. 11. BIOGRAPHY.—NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 255 

preferred; partly because the knowledge they communicate is 
more certain and more agreeable, and partly because it bears an 
incomparably greater relation to the present condition of men ; 
and for that reason it is better adapted to prepare the young per¬ 
son for the part which he is to take in active life. If historical 
books even for the young possessed less of the character of mere 
chronicles of facts, and contained a few of those connecting and 
illustrating paragraphs which a man of philosophical mind knows 
how to introduce, History might become a powerful instrument in 
imparting sound principles to the mind, and thus in meliorating 
the general condition of society. Both Biography and History 
should be illustrated with good plates. The more we can teach 
through the eye the better. It is hardly necessary to add that a 
boy should not “ learn lessons” in either. He should read these 
books, and means should afterwards be taken to ascertain whether 
he has read them to good purpose. 

There is, according to my views, no study that is more adapted 
to please and improve young persons than that of Natural Philo¬ 
sophy. When I was a schoolboy I attended a few lectures on the 
Air Pump, Galvanism, &c., and I value the knowledge which I 
gained in three evenings more highly than any other that I gained 
at school in as many months. Whilst our children are poring over 
lessons w r hich disgust them, we allow that magazine of wonders 
which heaven has stored up to lie unexplored and unnoticed. 
There are multitudes of young men and women who are considered 
respectably educated, who are yet wonderfully ignorant of the 
first principles of natural science. Many a boy who has spent 
years upon Latin, cannot tell how it comes to pass that water rises 
in a pump ; and would stare if he were told that the decanters on 
the table were not colder than the baize they stand on. I would 
rather that my son were familiar with the subjects of Paley’s 
Theology, than that he should surpass Elizabeth Carter in a 
translation of Epictetus. 

Respecting the propriety of attempting to convey any knowledge 
of Political Science, many readers will probably doubt. Yet why 1 
Is it not upon the goodness or badness of political institutions that 
much of the happiness or misery of mankind depends 1 And what 
means are so likely to amend the bad or to secure the continuance of 
the good, as the intelligent opinion of a people 1 We know that 
in all free states like our own, Public Opinion is powerful. What 




256 


ELEMENTS OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. Essay 2. 

then can be more obviously true than that it should be made as 
just as we can? Nor would it be to much purpose to reply, that 
every master will teach his own political creed, and only nurse up 
ignorant and angry squabbles. The same reason would apply 
against inculcating Religious Principles: yet who thinks these 
principles should be neglected because there are many creeds ? 
Besides, one of the best means of educing political truth is by 
inquiry and discussion, and these are likely to be rationally pro¬ 
moted by making the Elements of Political knowledge a subject 
of education. To say the truth, these elements are not really very 
abstruse or remote. Having once established the maxim—which 
no reasonable man disputes—that the proper purpose of govern¬ 
ment is to secure the happiness of the community, very little is 
wanted in applying the principle to particular questions but honest 
conscientious thought. The difficulties are occasioned not so much 
by the nature of the case as by the interests and prejudices which 
habit and existing institutions introduce : and how shall these 
interests and prejudices be so effectually prevented from influencing 
the mind, as by the inculcation of simple truths before young 
persons mix in the business of the world? 

These are general suggestions: details are foreign to our pur¬ 
pose; but from these general suggestions the intelligent parent will 
perceive the kind of education that is proposed. If such an edu¬ 
cation would convey to young persons some tolerable portion of 
“ the knowledge and the spirit of their age and country,” if it 
would tend to make them “ useful, respectable and happy” in the 
various relationships of life, the objects of Intellectual Education 
are, in the same degree attained. So limited is the opportunity of 
the young for acquiring knowledge in comparison with the extent 
of knowledge itself, that, upon some subjects, little more is to be 
effected during the years that are professedly devoted to education, 
than to induce the desire of information, and the habit of seeking 
it. A boy cannot be expected to acquire very extensive informa¬ 
tion respecting the application of the mechanical powers; but if 
he sees the value and the pleasure of studying it, he may here¬ 
after benefit his country and the world by his ingenuity. Or a 
boy cannot be expected to know more than the elements of che¬ 
mistry; yet this knowledge may in future enable him to add 
greatly to the comforts and conveniences of human life. 

There are indications of a revolution in the system of education, 




Chap. 11. REVOLUTION IN EDUCATION. 257 

which will probably lead both to great and beneficial results. 
Science is evidently gaining ground upon the judgments and 
affections of the public. Elementary books of Science are indeed 
the familiar companions of young persons after they have left 
school. They lay aside tenses and parsing for “ Conversations on 
Chemistry.” This is, so far, as it should be; and it would be 
better still if similar books had taken the place, at school, of accents 
and quantities, and cases and genders, and lesson-learning by rote. 
This revolution is also indicated by the topics which are intro¬ 
duced into Mechanics’ Institutes. These Associations seem 
almost instinctively to prefer science to literature, simply as such. 
Perhaps it will be said that science is the branch of knowledge 
which is more peculiarly adapted to their employments in life. 
But the scientific information which an individual acquires usually 
produces little immediate effect upon his mode of working. The 
carpenter cannot put up a staircase the better for attending a 
lecture on Chemistry. No: they prefer science because it is 
preferable : preferable, not for mechanics merely, but for man. It 
is of less consequence to Man to know what Horace wrote, or to 
be able to criticise the Greek Anthology, than to know by what 
laws the Deity regulates the operations of nature, and by what 
means those operations are made subservient to the purposes 
of life. 

A consideration of the kind of knowledge which education 
should impart, is-however but one division of the general subject. 
The consideration of the best mode of imparting it, is another. 
Various reasons induce the writer to say little respecting the 
last,—of which reasons one is, that he does not possess informa¬ 
tion that satisfies his own mind; and another, that it is not so 
immediately connected with the general purpose of the work. 
That great improvements have recently been made in the mode 
of conveying knowledge to large numbers, is beyond dispute. 
Whether, or to what extent, these improvements are applicable 
to schools of twenty children or to families of three or four, expe¬ 
rience will be likely to decide. With the prodigious power of 
giving publicity and exciting discussion which men now possess, 
the best systems are likely ultimately to prevail. 

One observation may however safely be made,—that if two 
systems are proposed, each with apparently nearly equal claims, 
and one of which will be more pleasurable to the learner, that 


s 




258 FEMALE EDUCATION.—PRACTICAL Essay 2. 

one is undoubtedly the best. That which a boy delights in he 
will learn, and if the subjects of instruction were as delightful as 
they ought to be, and the mode of conveying were pleasurable too, 
there would be an immense addition to the stock of knowledge 
which a schoolboy acquires. We complain of the aversion of the 
young to learning, and the young complain of their weariness and 
disgust. It is in a great degree our own faults. Knowledge is 
delightful to the human mind; but we may, if we please, select 
such kinds of knowledge and adopt such modes of imparting it, as 
shall make the whole system not delightful but repulsive. This, 
to a great extent, we actually do. We may do the contrary if we 
will. 


There does not appear any reason why the education of women 
should differ, in its essentials, from that of men. The education 
which is good for human nature is good for them. They are a 
part—and they ought to be in a much greater degree than they are, 
a part—of the effective contributors to the welfare and intelligence 
of the human family. In intellectual as well as in other affairs, 
they ought to be fit helps to man. The preposterous absurdities of 
chivalrous times still exert a wretched influence over the character 
and the allotment of women. Men are not polite but gallant : 
they do not act towards women as to beings of kindred habits and 
character, as to beings who, like the other portion of mankind, 
reason and reflect and judge, but as to beings who please, and 
whom men are bound to please. Essentially there is no kind¬ 
ness, no politeness in this; but selfishness and insolence. He is 
the man of politeness who evinces his respect for the female mind. 
He is the man of insolence who tacitly says, when he enters into 
the society of women, that he needs not to bring his intellects with 
him. I do not mean to affirm that these persons intend insolence 
or are conscious always of the real character of their habits: they 
think they are attentive and polite ; and habit has become so 
inveterate, that they really are not pleased if a woman, by the 
vigour of her conversation, interrupts the pleasant trifling to which 
they are accustomed. Unhappily, a great number of women 
themselves prefer this varnished and gilded contempt to solid re¬ 
spect. They would rather think themselves fascinating than 
respectable. They will not see, and very often they do not see, 
the practical insolence with which they are treated: yef what 



Chap. 11. CONTEMPT OF THE FEMALE MIND. 


259 


insolence is so great as that of half a dozen men who, having been 
engaged in an intelligent conversation, suddenly exchange it for 
frivolity if ladies enter. 

For this unhappy state of intellectual intercourse, female educa¬ 
tion is in too great a degree adapted. A large class are taught 
less to think than to shine. If they glitter, it matters little whe¬ 
ther it be the glitter of gilding or of gold. To he accomplished is 
of greater interest than to be sensible. It is of more consequence 
to this class to charm by the tones of a piano than to delight and 
invigorate by intellectual conversation. The effect is reciprocally 
bad. An absurd education disqualifies them for intellectual exer¬ 
tion, and that very disqualification perpetuates the degradation. 
I say the degradation, for the word is descriptive of the fact. A 
captive is not the less truly bound because his chains are made of 
silver and studded with rubies. If any community exhibits, in 
the collective character of its females, an exception to these 
remarks, it is I think exhibited amongst the Society of Friends. 
Within the last twenty-five years the public have had many 
opportunities of observing the intellectual condition of quaker 
women. The public have not been dazzled:—who would wish 
it 1 but they have seen intelligence, sound sense, considerateness, 
discretion. They have seen these qualities in a degree, and with 
an approach to universality of diffusion, that is not found in any 
other class of women as a class. There are, indeed few or no 
authors amongst them. The quakers are not a writing people. 
If they were, there is no reason to doubt that the intelligence and 
discretion which are manifested by their women’s actions and con¬ 
versation, would be exhibited in their books. 

Unhappily some of the causes which have produced these 
qualities are not easily brought into operation by the public. One 
of the most efficient of these causes consists in that economy of the 
society by which its women have an extensive and a separate 
share in the internal administration of its affairs. In the exer¬ 
cise of this administration they are almost inevitably taught to 
think and to judge. The instrument is powerful; but how shall 
that instrument be applied—where shall it be procured—by the 
rest of the public 1 

Not however, that the intellectual education of these females 
is what it ought to be or what it might be. They, too, waste 
their hours over “ grammar books,” and “ geography books,” and 







260 


FEMALE EDUCATION. 


Essay 2 . 


lesson books,—over Latin sometimes, and Greek; and, if the 
remark can be adventured on, over stitching and hemming too. 
Something must be amiss when a girl is kept two or three hours 
every day in acquiring the art of sewing. What that something 
is,—whether it is practised like parsing because it is common, or 
whether more accurate proficiency is expected than reason would 
prescribe, I presume not to determine; but it may safely be 
concluded, that if a portion equal to a fourth or a third part of 
those years which are afforded to that mighty subject, the edu¬ 
cation of the human mind, is devoted to the acquisition of one 
manual art like this ,—more is devoted than any one who reasons 
upon the subject can justify. 

If then we were wise enough to regard women, and if women 
were wise enough to regard themselves, with that real practical 
respect to which they are entitled, and if the education they 
received was such as that respect would dictate, we might here¬ 
after have occasion to say, not as it is now said, that “ in England 
women are queens,” but something higher and greater; we might 
say that in every thing social, intellectual, and religious, they 
were fit to co-operate with man, and to cheer and assist him in his 
endeavours to promote his own happiness, and the happiness of 
his family, his country, and the world. 


CHAPTER XII. 


MORAL EDUCATION. 

To a good Moral Education, two things are necessary: That 
the young should receive information respecting what is right and 
what is wrong; and, That they should be furnished with motives 
to adhere to what is right. We should communicate moral Know¬ 
ledge and moral dispositions. 

I. In the endeavour to attain these ends, there is one great 
pervading difficulty, consisting in the imperfection and impurity 
of the actual moral condition of mankind. Without referring at 
present to that moral guidance with which all men, however cir¬ 
cumstanced, are furnished, 1 it is evident that much of the practi¬ 
cal moral education which an individual receives, is acquired by 
habit, and from the actions, opinions, and general example of those 
around him. It is thus that, to a great extent, he acquires his 
moral education. He adopts the notions of others, acquires in¬ 
sensibly a similar set of principles, and forms to himself a similar 
scale of right and wrong.—It is manifest that the learner in such 
a school will often be taught amiss. Yet how can we prevent 
him from being so taught ] or what system of Moral Education is 
likely to avail in opposition to the contagion of example and the 
influence of notions insensibly, yet constantly instilled ? It is to 
little purpose to take a boy every morning into a closet, and there 
teach him moral and religious truths for an hour, if so soon as the 
hour is expired, he is left for the remainder of the day in circum¬ 
stances in which these truths are not recommended by any living 
examples. 

One of the first and greatest requisites therefore in Moral Edu¬ 
cation, is a situation in which the knowledge and the practice of 
morality is inculcated by the habitually virtuous conduct of others. 
The boy who is placed in such a situation is in an efficient moral 
1 See Essay 1, e. 6. 






262 


UNION OF MORAL PRINCIPLE 


Essay 2 . 


school, though he may never hear delivered formal rules of con¬ 
duct : so that if parents should ask how they may best give their 
child a moral education, I answer, Be virtuous yourselves. 

The young, however, are unavoidably subjected to bad example 
as to good: many who may see consistent practical lessons of 
virtue in their parents’ parlours, must see much that is contrary 
elsewhere; and we must, if we can, so rectify the moral percep¬ 
tions and invigorate the moral dispositions, that the mind shall 
effectually resist the insinuation of evil. 

Religion is the basis of Morality. He that would impart moral 
knowledge must begin by imparting a knowledge of God. We 
are not advocates of formal instruction—of lesson learning—in 
moral any more than in intellectual education. Not that we affirm 
it is undesirable to make a young person commit to memory max¬ 
ims of religious truth and moral duty. These things may be 
right, but they are not the really efficient means of forming the 
moral character of the young. These maxims should recommend 
themselves to the judgment and affections, and this can hardly be 
hoped whilst they are presented only in a didactic and insulated 
form to the mind. It is one of the characteristics of the times 
that there is a prodigious increase of books that are calculated to 
benefit whilst they delight the young. These are effective instru¬ 
ments in teaching morality. A simple narrative, (of facts if it be 
possible,) in which integrity of principle and purity of conduct are 
recommended to the affections as well as to the judgment,—with¬ 
out affectation, or improbabilities, or factitious sentiment, is likely 
to effect substantial good. And if these associations are judici¬ 
ously renewed, the good is likely to be permanent as well as sub¬ 
stantial. It is not a light task to write such books nor to select 
them. Authors colour their pictures too highly. They must in¬ 
deed interest the young or they will not be read with pleasure; 
but the anxiety to give interest is too great, and the effects may 
be expected to diminish as the narrative recedes from congeniality 
to the actual condition of mankind. 

A judicious parent will often find that the moral culture of his 
child may be promoted without seeming to have the object in view. 
There are many opportunities which present themselves for asso¬ 
ciating virtue with his affections,—for throwing in amongst the 
accumulating mass of mental habits principles of rectitude which 
.shall pervade and meliorate the whole. 


Chap. 12. WITH THE AFFECTIONS—SOCIETY. 


263 


As the mind acquires an increased capacity of judging, I would 
offer to the young person a sound exhibition, if such can be found, 
of the Principles of Morality. He should know, with as great 
distinctness as possible, not only his duty but the reasons of it. 
It has very unfortunately happened that those who have professed 
to deliver the principles of morality, have commonly intermingled 
error with truth, or have set out with propositions fundamentally 
unsound. These books effect, it is probable, more injury than 
benefit. Their truths, for they contain truths, are frequently de¬ 
duced from fallacious premises,—from premises from which it is 
equally easy to deduce errors. The fallacies of the Moral Philo¬ 
sophy of Paley are now in part detected by the public: there was 
a time when his opinions were regarded as more nearly oracular 
than now, and at that time and up to the present time, the book 
has effectually confused the moral notions of multitudes of readers. 
If the reader thinks that the Principles which have been proposed 
in the present Essays are just, he might derive some assistance 
from them in conducting the moral education of his elder children. 

There is negative as well as positive Education,—some things 
to avoid, as well as some to do. Of the things which are to be 
avoided the most obvious is unfit society for the young. If a boy 
mixes without restraint in whatever society he pleases, his educa¬ 
tion will in general be practically bad; because the world in 
general is bad: its moral condition is below the medium between 
perfect purity and utter depravation. Nevertheless, he must at 
some period mix in society with almost all sorts of men, and 
therefore he must be prepared for it. Very young children should 
be excluded if possible from all unfit association, because they 
acquire habits before they possess a sufficiency of counteracting 
principle. But if a parent has, within his own house, sufficiently 
endeavoured to confirm and invigorate the moral character of his 
child, it were worse than fruitless to endeavour to retain him 
in the seclusion of a monk. He should feel the necessity and 
acquire the power of resisting temptation by being subjected, 
gradually subjected, to thaf temptation which must one day be 
presented to him. In the endlessly diversified circumstances of 
families, no suggestion of prudence will be applicable to all; but 
if a parent is conscious that the moral tendency of his domestic 
associations is good, it will probably be wise to send his children 
to day schools rather than to send them wholly from his family. 



264 


MORALITY OF THE ANCIENT CLASSICS. Essay 2. 


Schools, as moral instruments, contain much both of good and 
evil: perhaps no means will be more effectual in securing much 
of the good and avoiding much of the evil, than that of allowing 
his children to spend their evenings and early mornings at home. 

In ruminating upon Moral Education, we cannot, at least in this 
age of reading, disregard the influence of books. That a young 
person should not read every book is plain. No discrimination 
can be attempted here; but it may be observed that the best spe¬ 
cies of discrimination is that which is supplied by a rectified 
condition of the mind itself. The best species of prohibition is 
not that which a parent pronounces, but that which is pronounced 
by purified tastes and inclinations in the mind of the young. Not 
that the parent or tutor can expect that all or many of his children 
will adequately make this judicious discrimination; but if he 
cannot do every thing he can do much. There are many persons 
whom a contemptible or vicious book disgusts, notwithstanding 
the fascinations which it may contain. This disgust is the result 
of education in a large sense; and some portion of this disgust 
and of the discrimination which results from it, may be induced 
into the mind of a boy by having made him familiar with superior 
productions. He who is accustomed to good society feels little 
temptation to join in the vociferations of an alehouse. 

And here it appears necessary to advert to the moral tendency 
of studying, without selection, the ancient classics. If there are 
objections to the study resulting from this tendency, they are to 
be superadded to those which were stated in the last chapter on 
intellectual grounds; and both united will present motives to 
hesitation on the part of a parent which he cannot, with any pro¬ 
priety, disregard. The mode in which the writings of the Greek 
and Latin authors operate is not an ordinary mode. We do not 
approach them as we approach ordinary books, but with a sort of 
habitual admiration which makes their influence, whatever be its 
nature, peculiarly strong. That admiration would be powerful 
alike for good or for evil. Whether the tendency be good or evil 
the admiration will make it great. 

Now previous to inquiring wdiat the positive ill tendency of 
these writings is,—what is not their tendency 1 They are pagan 
books for Christian children. They neither inculcate Christianity, 
nor Christian dispositions, nor the love of Christianity. But their 
tendency is not negative merely. They do inculcate that which 


Chap. 12 . 


NORRISIAN PRIZE ESSAY. 


265 


is adverse to Christianity and to Christian dispositions. They set 
up, as exalted virtues, that which our own religion never counte¬ 
nanced, if it has not specifically condemned. They censure as 
faults, dispositions which our own religion enjoins, or dispositions 
so similar that the young will not discriminate between them. If 
we enthusiastically admire these works, who will pretend that we 
shall not admire the moral qualities which they applaud ? Who 
will pretend that the mind of a young person accurately adjusts 
his admiration to those subjects only which Christianity approves! 
No : we admire them as a whole; not perhaps every sentence or 
every sentiment, but we admire their general spirit and character. 
In a word, we admire that, which our own religion teaches us not 
to imitate. And what makes the effect the more intense is, that 
we do this at the period of life when we are every day acquiring 
our moral notions. We mingle them up with our early associa¬ 
tions respecting right and wrong—with associations which com¬ 
monly extend their influence over the remainder of life. 1 

A very able Essay which obtained the Norrisian Medal at 
Cambridge for 1825, forcibly illustrates these propositions; and 
the illustration is so much the more valuable because it appears 
to have been undesigned. The title is, “ No valid argument can 
be drawn from the incredulity of the Heathen Philosophers, against 
the truth of the Christian religion.” 2 The object of the work is 
to show by a reference to their writings, that the general system 
of their opinions, feelings, prejudices, principles, and conduct, was 
utterly incongruous with Christianity; and that, in consequence 
of these principles, &c. they actually did reject the religion. This 
is shown with great clearness of evidence: it is shown that a class 
of men who thought and wrote as these Philosophers thought and 
wrote, would be extremely indisposed to adopt the religion and 
morality which Christ had introduced. Now this appears to me 
to be conclusive of the question as to the present tendency of 
their writings. If the principles and prejudices of these persons 
indisposed them to the acceptance of Christianity, those prejudices 
and principles will indispose the man who admires and imbibes 
them in the present day. Not that they will now produce the 
effect in the same degree. We are now surrounded with many 

1 “ All education which inculcates Christian Opinions with Pagan Tastes, awakens 
conscience but to tamper with it.” Schimmelpenninck: Biblical Fragments. 

2 By James Amiraux Jeremie. 


266 


THE SUPPLY OF MOTIVES TO VIRTUE. Essay 2. 


other media by which opinions and principles are induced, and 
these are frequently influenced by the spirit of Christianity. The 
study and the admiration of these writings may not therefore be 
expected to make men absolutely reject Christianity, but to indis¬ 
pose them, in a greater or less degree, for the hearty acceptance 
of Christian principles as their rules of conduct. 

Propositions have been made to supply young persons with 
selected ancient authors, or perhaps with editions in which excep¬ 
tionable passages are expunged. I do not think that this will 
greatly avail. It is not, I think, the broad indecencies of Ovid, 
nor any other insulated class of sentiments or descriptions that 
effects the great mischief; it is the pervading spirit and tenor of 
the whole,—a spirit and tenor from which Christianity is not only 
excluded, but which is actually and greatly adverse to Christianity. 
There is indeed one considerable benefit that is likely to result 
from such a selection and from expunging particular passages. 
Boys in ordinary schools, do not learn enough of the classics to 
acquire much of their general moral spirit, but they acquire enough 
to be influenced, and injuriously influenced, by being familiar with 
licentious language: and at any rate he essentially subserves the 
interests of morality who diminishes the power of opposing influ¬ 
ences though he cannot wholly destroy it. 

Finally, the mode in which Intellectual Education, generally, is 
acquired, may be made either an auxiliary of Moral Education or 
the contrary. A young person may store his mind with literature 
and science, and together with the acquisition either corrupt his 
principles or amend and invigorate them. The world is so abun¬ 
dantly supplied with the means of knowledge—Ahere are so many 
paths to the desired temple, that we may choose our own and yet 
arrive at it. He that thinks he cannot possess sufficient know¬ 
ledge without plucking fruit of unhallowed trees, surely does not 
know how boundless is the variety and number of those which 
bear wholesome fruit. He cannot indeed know every thing with¬ 
out studying the bad: which, however, is no more to be recom¬ 
mended in literature than in life. A man cannot know all the 
varieties of human society, without taking up his abode with 
felons and cannibals. 

II. But in reality the second division of Moral Education is the 
more important of the two ,—the supply of motives to adhere to 
what is right. Our great deficiency is not in knowledge but in 


CONSCIENCE. 


267 


Chap. 12. 


obedience. Of the offences which an individual commits against 
the Moral Law, the great majority are committed in the conscious¬ 
ness that he is doing wrong. Moral Education therefore should 
be directed not so much to informing the young what they ought 
to do, as to inducing those moral dispositions and principles which 
will make them adhere to what they know to be right. 

The human mind, of itself, is in a state something like that of 
men in a state of nature, where separate and conflicting desires 
and motives are not restrained by any acknowledged head. Go¬ 
vernment, as it is necessary to society, is necessary in the indivi¬ 
dual mind. To the internal community of the heart the great 
question is, Who shall be the legislator 1 Who shall regulate and 
restrain the passions and affections 1 Who shall command and 
direct the conduct!—To these questions the breast of every man 
supplies him with an answer. He knows, because he feels, that 
there is a rightful legislator in his own heart : he knows, because 
he feels that he ought to obey it. 

By whatever designation the reader may think it fit to indicate 
this legislator, whether he calls it the law written in the heart, or 
moral sense, or moral instinct, or conscience, we arrive at one 
practical truth at last; that to the moral legislation which does 
actually subsist in the human mind, it is right that the individual 
should conform his conduct. 

The great point then is, to induce him to do this,—to induce 
him, when inclination and this law are at variance, to sacrifice the 
inclination ' to the law: and for this purpose it appears proper, 
first to impress him with a high, that is with an accurate, estimate 
of the authority of the law itself. We have seen that this law 
embraces an actual expression of the Will of God; and we have 
seen that even although the conscience may not always be ade¬ 
quately enlightened, it nevertheless constitutes, to the individual, 
an authoritative law. It is to the conscientious internal appre¬ 
hension of rectitude that we should conform our conduct. Such 
appears to be the will of God. 

It should therefore be especially inculcated, that the dictate of 
conscience is never to be sacrificed, that whatever may be the 
consequences of conforming to it, they are to be ventured. Obe¬ 
dience is to be unconditional,—no questions about the utility of 
the law,—no computations of the consequences of obedience,—no 
presuming upon the lenity of the divine government. “ It is im- 



268 


SUBJUGATION OF THE WILL. 


Essay 2 . 


portant so to regulate the understanding and imagination of the 
young, that they may be prepared to obey, even where they do not 
see the reasons of the commands of God.” “ We should certainly 
endeavour, where we can, to show them the reasons of the divine 
commands, and this more and more as their understandings gain 
strength; but let it be obvious to them that we do ourselves con¬ 
sider it as quite sufficient if God has commanded us to do or to 
avoid any thing.” 1 

Obedience to this internal legislator is not, like obedience to civil 
government, enforced. The law is promulgated, but the passions 
and inclinations can refuse obedience if they will. Penalties and 
rewards are indeed annexed, but he who braves the penaltj' and 
disregards the reward may continue to violate the law. Obedience 
therefore must be voluntary, and hence the paramount importance, 
in moral Education, of habitually subjecting the will. “ Parents,” 
says Hartley, should “ labour from the earliest dawnings of under¬ 
standing and desire, to check the growing obstinacy of the will , 
curb all sallies of passion, impress the deepest, most amiable, 
reverential, and awful impressions of God, a future state, and all 
sacred things.”—“ Religious persons in all periods, who have pos¬ 
sessed the light of revelation, have in a particular manner been 
sensible that the habit of self control lies at the foundation of 
moral worth.” 2 There is nothing mean or mean-spirited in this. 
It is magnanimous in philosophy as it is right in morals. It is the 
subjugation of the lower qualities of our nature to wisdom and to 
goodness. 

The subjugation of the will to the dictates of a higher law, must 
be endeavoured, if we would succeed, almost in infancy and in 
very little things; from the earliest dawnings, as Hartley says, of 
understanding and desire. Children must first obey their parents 
and those who have the care of them. The habit of sacrificing the 
will to another judgment being thus acquired, the mind is prepared 
to sacrifice the will to the judgment pronounced within itself. 
Show, in every practicable case, why you cross the inclinations of 
a child. Let obedience be as little blind as it may be. It is a great 
failing of some parents that they will not descend from the impe¬ 
rative mood, and that they seem to think it a derogation from their 
authority to place their orders upon any other foundation than their 
wills. But if the child sees—and children are wonderfully quick- 
1 Carpenter; Principles of Education. 2 Ibid. 


269 


Chap. 12. KNOWLEDGE OF OUR OWN MINDS. 

sighted in such things—if the child sees that the will is that which 
governs his parent, how shall he efficiently learn that the will 
should not govern himself] 

The internal law carries with it the voucher of its own reason¬ 
ableness. A person does not need to be told that it is proper and 
right to obey that law. The perception of this rectitude and pro¬ 
priety is coincident with the dictates themselves. Let the parent 
then very frequently refer his son and his daughter to their own 
minds; let him teach them to seek for instruction there. There 
are dangers on every hand, and dangers even here. The parent 
must refer them, if it be possible, not merely to conscience but to 
enlightened conscience. He must unite the two branches of Mo¬ 
ral Education, and communicate the knowledge whilst he endea¬ 
vours to induce the practice of morality. Without this, his 
children may obey their consciences, and yet be in error and 
perhaps in fanaticism. With it, he may hope that their conduct 
will be both conscientious, and pure, and right. Nevertheless, an 
habitual reference to the internal law is the great, the primary 
concern; for the great majority of a man’s moral perceptions are 
accordant with Truth. 

There is one consequence attendant upon this habitual reference 
to the internal law which is highly beneficial to the moral charac¬ 
ter. It leads us to fulfil the wise instruction of antiquity, Know 
thyself. It makes us look within ourselves; it brings us acquainted 
with the little and busy world that is within us, with its many in¬ 
habitants and their dispositions, and with their tendencies to evil 
or to good. This is valuable knowledge; and knowledge for want 
of which, it may be feared, the virtue of many has been wrecked 
in the hour of tempest. A man’s enemies are those of his own 
household; and if he does not know their insidiousness and their 
strength, if he does not know upon what to depend for assistance, 
nor where is the probable point of attack, it is not likely that he 
will efficiently resist. Such a man is in the situation of the 
governor of an unprepared and surprised city. He knows not to 
whom to apply for effectual help, and finds perhaps that those 
whom he has loved and trusted are the first to desert or betray 
him. He feebly resists, soon capitulates, and at last scarcely 
knows why he did not make a successful defence. 

It is to be regretted that, in the moral education which com¬ 
monly obtains, whether formal or incidental, there is little that is 


270 OFFICES OF PUBLIC WORSHIP. Essay 2. 

calculated to produce this acquaintance with our own minds; 
little that refers us to ourselves, and much, very much, that calls 
and sends us away. Of many it is not too much to say that they 
receive almost no moral culture. The plant of virtue is suffered 
to grow as a tree grows in a forest, and takes its chance of storm 
or sunshine. This, which is good for oaks and pines, is not good 
for man. The general atmosphere around him is infected, and the 
juices of the moral plant are often themselves unhealthy. 

In the nursery, formularies and creeds are taught; but this does 
not refer the child to its own mind. Indeed, unless a wakeful 
solicitude is maintained by those who teach, fhe tendency is the 
reverse. The mind is kept from habits of introversion, even in 
the offices of religion, by practically directing its attention to the 
tongue. “ Many, it is to be feared, imagine that they are giving 
their children religious principles when they are only teaching 
them religious truths.” You cannot impart moral education as 
you teach a child to spell. 

From the nursery a boy is sent to school. He spends six or 
eight hours of the day in the school-room, and the remainder is 
employed in the sports of boyhood. Once, or it may be twice, in 
the day he repeats a form of prayer, and on one day in the week 
he goes to church. There is very little in all this to make him 
acquainted with the internal community; and habit, if nothing 
else, calls his reflections away. 

From school or from college the business of life is begun. It 
can require no argument to show that the ordinary pursuits of life 
have little tendency to direct a man’s meditations to the moral 
condition of his own mind, or that they have much tendency to 
employ them upon other and very different things. 

Nay even the offices of public devotion have almost a tendency 
to keep the mind without itself. What if we say that the self 
contemplation which even natural religion is likely to produce, is 
obstructed by the forms of Christian worship 1 “ The transitions 

from one office of devotion to another, are contrived like scenes in 
the drama, to supply the mind with a succession of diversified 
engagements.” 1 This supply of diversified engagements, whatever 
may be its value in other respects, has evidently the tendency of 
which we speak. It is not designed to supply, and it does not 
supply, the opportunity for calmness of recollection. A man must 
1 Paley: p. 3, b. 5, c. 5. 


271 


Chap . 12. KNOWLEDGE OF OUR OWN MINDS. 

abstract himself from the external service if he would investigate 
the character and dispositions of the inmates of his own breast. 
Even the architecture and decorations of churches come in aid of 
the general tendency. They make the eye an auxiliary of the ear, 
and both keep the mind at a distance from those concerns which 
are peculiarly its own; from contemplating its own weaknesses 
and wants; and from applying to God for that peculiar help, which 
perhaps itself only needs and which God only can impart. So 
little are the course of education and the subsequent engagements 
of life calculated to foster this great auxiliary of moral character. 
It is difficult, in the wide world, to foster it as much as is needful. 
Nothing but wakeful solicitude on the part of the parent can be 
expected sufficiently to direct the mind within, whilst the general 
tendency of our associations and habits is to keep it without. Let 
him however do what he can. The habitual reference to the dic¬ 
tates .of conscience may be promoted in the very young mind. 
This habit, like others, becomes strong by exercise. He that is 
faithful in little things is intrusted with more ; and this is true in 
respect of knowledge as in respect of other departments of the 
Christian life. Fidelity of obedience is commonly succeeded by 
increase of light, and every act of obedience and every addition to 
knowledge furnishes new and still stronger inducements to perse¬ 
vere in the same course. Acquaintance with ourselves is the 
inseparable attendant of this course. We know the character and 
dispositions of our own inmates by frequent association with them : 
and if this fidelity to the internal law, and consequent knowledge 
of the internal world, be acquired in early life, the parent may 
reasonably hope that it will never wholly lose its efficiency amidst 
the bustle and anxieties of the world. 

Undoubtedly, this most efficient security of moral character is 
not likely fully to operate during the continuance of the present 
state of society and of its institutions. It is I believe true, that 
the practice of morality is most complete amongst those persons 
who peculiarly recommend a reference to the internal law, and 
whose institutions, religious and social, are congruous with the 
habit of this reference. Their history exhibits a more unshaken 
adherence to that which they conceived to be right,—fewer sacri¬ 
fices of conscience to interest or the dread of suffering,—less of 
trimming between conflicting motives,—more, in a word, of ad¬ 
herence to rectitude without regard to consequences. We have 



272 


KNOWLEDGE OF OUR OWN MINDS. Essay 2.. 


seen that such persons are likely to form accurate views of recti¬ 
tude ; but whether they he accurate or not, does not affect the 
value of their moral education as securing fidelity to the degree of 
knowledge which they possess. It is of more consequence to ad¬ 
here steadily to conscience though it may not he perfectly enlight¬ 
ened, than to possess perfect knowledge without consistency of 
obedience. But in reality they who obey most, know most ; and 
we say that the general testimony of experience is, that those 
persons exhibit the most unyielding fidelity to the Moral Law 
whose Moral Education has peculiarly directed them to the law 
written in the heart. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE. 

Whether the Education of those who are not able to pay for 
educating themselves ought to be a private or a national charge, 
it is not our present business to discuss. It is in this country 
at least, left to the voluntary benevolence of individuals, and this 
consideration may apologize for a brief reference to it here. 

It is not long since it was a question whether the poor should 
be educated or not. That time is past, and it may be hoped the 
time will soon be passed when it shall be a question, To what 
extent?—that the time will soon arrive when it will be agreed 
that no limit needs to be assigned to the education of the poor, but 
that which is assigned by their own necessities or which ought to 
be assigned to the education of all men. There appears no more 
reason for excluding a poor man from the fields of knowledge than 
for preventing him from using his eyes. The mental and the 
visual powers were alike given to be employed. A man should 
indeed, “ shut his eyes from seeing evil” but whatever reason there 
is for letting him see all that is beautiful, and excellent, and inno¬ 
cent in nature and in art, there is the same for enabling his mind 
to expatiate in the fields of knowledge. 

The objections which are urged against this extended education 
are of the same kind as those which were urged against any edu¬ 
cation. They insist upon the probability of abuse. It was said, They 
who can write may forge; they who can read may read what is 
pernicious. The answer was, or it might have been,—They who can 
hear, may hear profaneness and learn it; they who can see, may 
see bad examples and follow them :—but are we therefore to stop 
our ears and put out our eyes ?—It is now said, that if you give 
extended education to the poor, you will elevate them above their 
stations, that a critic would mot drive a wheelbarrow, and that a 
philosopher would not shoe horses or weave cloth. But these, con- 

T 




274 COLLATERAL ADVANTAGES OF Essay 2. 

sequences are without the limits of possibility; because the ques¬ 
tion for a poor man is, whether he shall perform such offices or 
starve: and surely it will not be pretended that hungry men would 
rather criticise than eat. Science and, literature would not solicit 
a poor man from his labour more irresistibly than ease and plea¬ 
sure do now; yet in spite of these solicitations what is the fact'? 
That the poor man works for his bread. This is the inevitable 
result. 

It is not the positive but the relative amount of knowledge that 
elevates a man above his station in society. It is not because he 
knows much, but because he knows more than his fellows. Edu¬ 
cate all, and none will fancy that he is superior to his neighbours. 
Besides, we assign to the possession of knowledge, effects which are 
produced rather by habits of life. Ease and comparative leisure 
are commonly attendant upon extensive knowledge, and leisure 
and ease disqualify men for the laborious occupations much more 
than the knowledge itself. 

There are some collateral advantages of an extended education 
of the people, which are of much importance. It has been observed 
that if the French had been an educated people, many of the atro¬ 
cities of their revolution would never have happened,—and I be¬ 
lieve it. Furious mobs are composed, not of enlightened but of 
unenlightened men,—of men in whom the passions are dominant 
over the judgment because the judgment has not been exercised, 
and informed, and habituated to direct the conduct. A factious 
declaimer can much less easily influence a number of men who 
acquired at school the rudiments of knowledge, and who have sub¬ 
sequently devoted their leisure to a Mechanics’ Institute, than a 
multitude who cannot write or read, and who have never practised 
reasoning and considerate thought. And as the Education of a 
People prevents political evil it effects political good. Despotic 
rulers well know that knowledge is inimical to their power. This 
simple fact is a sufficient reason, to a good and wise man, to ap¬ 
prove knowledge and extend it. The attention to public institu¬ 
tions and public measures which is inseparable from an educated 
population, is a great good. We all know that the human heart 
is such that the possession of power is commonly attended with a 
desire to increase it, even in opposition to the general weal. It is 
acknowledged that a check is needed, and no check is either so effi¬ 
cient or so safe as that of a watchful and intelligent public mind : so 




EXTENDED EDUCATION. 


275 


Chap . 13 . 


watchful, that it is prompt to discover and to expose what is amiss; 
so intelligent, that it is able to form rational judgments respecting 
the nature and the means of amendment. In all public institutions 
there exists, and it is happy that there does exist, a sort of vis 
inertise which habitually resists change. This, which is beneficial 
as a general tendency, is often injurious from its excess: the state 
of public institutions almost throughout the world bears sufficient 
testimony to the truth that they need alteration and amendment 
faster than they receive it,—that the internal resistance of change 
is greater than is good for man. Unhappily, the ordinary way in 
which a people have endeavoured to amend their institutions has 
been by some mode of violence. If you ask when a nation acquired 
a greater degree of freedom, you are referred to some era of revo¬ 
lution and probably of blood. These are not proper—certainly 
they are not Christian—remedies for the disease. It is becoming 
an undisputed proposition that no bad institution can permanently 
stand against the distinct Opinion of a People. This opinion is 
likely to be universal and to be intelligent only amongst an en¬ 
lightened community. Now that reformation of public institutions 
which results from public opinion is the very best in kind, and is 
likely to be the best in its mode :—in its kind, because public opi¬ 
nion is the proper measure of the needed alteration; and in its 
mode, because alterations which result from such a cause, are 
likely to be temperately made. 

It may be feared that some persons object to an extended edu¬ 
cation of the 'people on these very grounds which we propose as 
recommendations ; that they regard the tendency of education to 
produce examination, and, if need be, alteration of established in¬ 
stitutions, as a reason for withholding it from the poor. To these, 
it is a sufficient answer that if increase of knowledge and habits of 
investigation tend to alter any established institution, it is fit that 
it should be altered. There appears no means of avoiding this 
conclusion, unless it can be shown that increase of knowledge is 
usually attended with depravation of principle, and that in propor¬ 
tion as the judgment is exercised it decides amiss. 

Generally, that intellectual education is good for a poor man 
which is good for his richer neighbours: in other words that is 
good for the poor which is good for man. There may be excep¬ 
tions to the general rule, but he who is disposed to doubt the fit¬ 
ness of a rich man’s education for the poor, will do well to consider 




276 INFANT SCHOOLS—HABITS OF INQUIRY. Essay 2. 

first whether the rich man's education is fit for himself. The 
children of persons of property can undoubtedly learn much more 
than those of a labourer, and the labourer must select from the 
rich man’s system, a part only for his own child. But this does 
not affect the general conclusion. The parts which he ought to 
select are precisely those parts which are most necessary and 
beneficial to the rich. 

Great as have been the improvements in the methods of con¬ 
veying knowledge to the poor, there is reason to think that they 
will be yet greater. Some useful suggestions for the instruction 
of older children may I think be obtained from the systems in 
• Infant Schools. In a well conducted infant school, children ac¬ 
quire much knowledge, and they acquire it with delight. This 
delight is of extreme importance : perhaps it may safely be con¬ 
cluded, respecting all innocent knowledge, that if a child acquired 
it with pleasure he is well taught. It is worthy observation, that 
in the infant system, lesson-learning is nearly or wholly excluded. 
It is not to be expected that in the time which is devoted profess¬ 
edly to education by the children of the poor, much extent of 
knowledge can be acquired; but something may be acquired 
which is of much more consequence than mere school-learning,— 
the love and the habits of inquiry. If education be so conducted 
that it is a positive pleasure to a boy to learn, there is little doubt 
that this love and habit will be induced. Here is the great ad¬ 
vantage of early intellectual culture. The busiest have some 
leisure, leisure which they may employ ill or well; and that they 
will employ it well may reasonably be expected when knowledge 
is thus attractive for its own sake. That this effect is in a con¬ 
siderable degree actually produced, is indicated by the improved 
character of the books which poor men read, and in the prodigi¬ 
ous increase in the number of those books. The supply and de¬ 
mand are correspondent. Almost every year produces books for 
the labouring classes of a higher intellectual order than the last. 
A journeyman in our days can understand and relish a work 
which would have been like Arabic to his grandfather. 

Of moral education we say nothing here, except that the prin¬ 
ciples which are applicable to other classes of mankind are obvi¬ 
ously applicable to the poor. With respect to the inculcation of 
peculiar religious opinions on the children who attend schools 
voluntarily supported, there is manifestly the same reason for in- 


HABITS OF INQUIRY. 


277 


Chap. 13. 


culcating them in this case as for teaching them at all. This 
supposes that the supporters of the school are not themselves 
divided in their religious opinions. If they are, and if the adhe¬ 
rents to no one creed are able to support a school of their own, 
there appears no ground upon which they can rightly refuse to 
support a school in which no religious peculiarities are taught. 
It is better that intellectual knowledge, together with imperfect 
religious principles should be communicated, than that children 
should remain in darkness. There is indeed some reason to sus¬ 
pect the genuineness of that man’s philanthropy, who refuses to 
impart any knowledge to his neighbours because he cannot, at the 
same time, teach them his own creed. 



CHAPTER XIV. 


AMUSEMENTS. 

It is a remarkable circumstance, that in almost all Christian 
countries many of the public and popular Amusements have been 
regarded as objectionable by the more sober and conscientious part 
of the community. This opinion could scarcely have been gene¬ 
ral unless it had been just: yet why should a people prefer amuse¬ 
ments of which good men feel themselves compelled to disapprove 1 
Is it because no public recreation can be devised of which the 
evil is not greater than the good 1 or because the inclinations of 
most men are such, that if it were devised, they would not enjoy 
it 1 It may be feared that the desires which are seeking for gra¬ 
tification are not themselves pure; and pure pleasures are not 
congenial to impure minds. The real cause of the objectionable 
nature of many popular diversions is to be sought in the want of 
virtue in the people. 

Amusement is confessedly a subordinate concern in life. It is 
neither the principal nor amongst the principal objects of proper 
solicitude. No reasonable man sacrifices the more important 
thing to the less, and that a man’s religious and moral condition 
is of incomparably greater importance than his diversion, is suffi¬ 
ciently plain. In estimating the propriety or rather the lawfulness 
of a given amusement, it may safely be laid down, That none is 
lawful of which the aggregate consequences are injurious to mo¬ 
rals :—nor, if its effects upon the immediate agents are, in gene¬ 
ral, morally bad:—nor if it occasions needless pain and misery 
to men or to animals:—nor, lastly, if it occupies much time or is 
attended with much expense.—Respecting all amusements, the 
question is not whether, in their simple or theoretical character, 
they are defensible, but whether they are defensible in their actu¬ 
ally existing state. 

The Drama. So that if a person, by way of showing the 



Chap. 14. 


THE STAGE. 


279 


propriety of theatrical exhibitions, should ask whether there was 
any harm in a man’s repeating a composition before others and 
accompanying it with appropriate gestures,—he would ask a very 
foolish question : because he would ask a question that possesses 
little or no relevancy to the subject.—What are the ordinary 
effects of the stage upon those who act on it! One and one only 
answer can be given,—that whatever happy exceptions there may 
be, the effect is bad;—that the moral and religious character of 
actors is lower than that of persons in other professions. “ It is 
an undeniable fact, for the truth of which we may safely appeal 
to every age and nation, that the situation of the performers, par¬ 
ticularly of those of the female sex, is remarkably unfavourable 
to the maintenance and growth of the religious and moral princi¬ 
ple, and of course highly dangerous to their eternal interests.” 3 

Therefore, if I take my seat in the theatre, I have paid three or 
five shillings as an inducement to a number of persons to subject 
their principles to extreme danger ; —and the defence which I 
make is, that I am amused by it. Now we affirm that this defence 
is invalid ; that it is a defence which reason pronounces to be 
absurd, and morality to be vicious. Yet I have no other to make : 
it is the sum total of my justification. 

But this, which is sufficient to decide the morality of the ques¬ 
tion, is not the only nor the chief part of the evil. The evil 
which is suffered by performers may be more intense, but upon 
spectators and others it is more extended. The night of a play is 
the harvest time of iniquity, where the profligate and the sensual 
put in their sickles and reap. It is to no purpose to say that a 
man may go to a theatre or parade a saloon without taking part in 
the surrounding licentiousness. All who are there promote the 
licentiousness, for if none were there, there would be no licentious¬ 
ness ; that is to say, if none purchased tickets there would be 
neither actors to be depraved, nor dramas to vitiate, nor saloons to 
degrade, and corrupt, and shock us.—The whole question of the 
lawfulness of the dramatic amusements, as they are ordinarily 
conducted, is resolved into a very simple thing:—After the doors 
on any given night are closed, have the virtuous or the vicious 
dispositions of the attenders been in the greater degree promoted 1 
Every one knows that the balance is on the side of vice, and this 
conclusively decides the question,—“Is it lawful to attend?” 

1 Wilberforce: Practical View, c. 4, s. 5. 



280 RELIGIOUS AMUSEMENTS.—MASQUERADES. Essay 2. 


The same question is to be asked, and the same answer I 
believe will be returned, respecting various other assemblies for 
purposes of amusement. They do more harm than good. They 
please but they injure us; and what makes the case still stronger 
is, that the pleasure is frequently such as ought not to be enjoyed. 
A tippler enjoys pleasure in becoming drunk, but he is not to 
allege the gratification as a set-off against the immorality. And 
so it is with no small portion of the pleasures of an assembly. 
Dispositions are gratified which it were wiser to thwart; and to 
speak the truth, if the dispositions of the mind were such as they 
ought to be, many of these modes of diversion would be neither 
relished nor resorted to. Some persons try to persuade themselves 
that charity forms a part of their motive in attending such places; 
as when the profits of the night are given to a benevolent institu¬ 
tion. They hope, I suppose, that though it w 7 ould not be quite 
right to go if benevolence were not a gainer, yet that the end war¬ 
rants the means. But if these persons are charitable, let them 
give their guinea without deducting half for purposes of question¬ 
able propriety. Religious amusements, such as Oratorios and the 
like, form one of those artifices of chicanery by which people 
cheat or try to cheat themselves. The music, say they, is sacred, 
is devotional; and we go to hear it as we go to church : it excites 
and animates our religious sensibilities. This, in spite of the 
solemnity of the association, is really ludicrous. These scenes 
subserve religion no more than they subserve chemistry. They 
do not increase its power any more than the power of the steam 
engine. As it respects Christianity, it is all imposition and fic¬ 
tion ; and it is unfortunate that some of the most solemn topics 
of our religion are brought into such unworthy and debasing 
alliance. 1 

Masquerades are of a more decided character. If the plea¬ 
sure which people derive from meeting in disguises consisted 
merely in the “ fun and drollery” of the thing, we might wonder 
to see so many children of five and six feet high, and leave them 
perhaps to their childishness:—but the truth is that to many the 
zest of the concealment consists in the opportunity which it gives 
of covert licentiousnesss; of doing that in secret of which, openly, 
they would profess to be ashamed. Some men and some women 
who affect propriety when the face is shown, are glad of a few 
1 See also Essay 2, c. 1. 


Chap . 14 . 


FIELD SPORTS. 


281 


hours of concealed libertinism. It is a time in which principles 
are left to guard the citadel of virtue without the auxiliary of 
public opinion. And ill do they guard it! It is no equivocal in¬ 
dication of the slender power of a person’s principles when they 
do not restrain him any longer than his misdeeds will produce 
exposure. She who is immodest at a masquerade, is modest no 
where. She may affect the language of delicacy and maintain 
external decorum but she has no purity of mind. 

The Field. If we proceed with the calculation of the benefits 
and mischiefs of Field Sports, in the merchant-like manner of 
debtor and creditor, the balance is presently found to be greatly 
against them. The advantages to him who rides after hounds and 
shoots pheasants, are—that he is amused, and possibly that his 
health is improved; some of the disadvantages are—that it is 
unpropitious to the influence of religion and the dispositions which 
religion induces; that it expends money and time which a man 
ought to be able to employ better; and that it inflicts gratuitous 
misery upon the inferior animals. The value of the pleasure 
cannot easily be computed; and as to health it may pass for no¬ 
thing, for if a man is so little concerned for his health that he will 
not take exercise without dogs and guns, he has no reason to ex¬ 
pect other men to concern themselves for it in remarking upon his 
actions. And then for the other side of the calculation.—That 
field sports have any tendency to make a man better, no one will 
pretend; and no one who looks around him will doubt that their 
tendency is in the opposite direction. It is not necessary to show 
that every one who rides after the dogs is a worse man in the 
evening than he was in the morning: the influence of such things 
is to be sought in those with whom they are habitual. Is the 
character of the sportsman then, distinguished by religious sen¬ 
sibility ? No. By activity of benevolence ? No. By intellectual 
exertion! No. By purity of manners ? No. Sportsmen are not 
the persons who diffuse the light of Christianity, or endeavour to 
rectify the public morals, or to extend the empire of knowledge. 
Look again at the clerical sportsman. Is he usually as exemplary 
in the discharge of his functions as those who decline such diver¬ 
sions? His parishioners know that he is not. So, then, the 
religious and moral tendency of Field Sports is bad. It is not 
necessary to show how the ill effect is produced. It is sufficient 
that it actually is produced. 

As to the expenditure of time and money, I dare say we shall 



282 


FIELD SPORTS.—THE TURF.—BOXING. Essay 2. 


be told that a man has a right to employ both as he chooses. We 
have heretofore seen that he has no such right. Obligations apply 
just as truly to the mode of employing leisure and property, as to 
the use which a man may make of a pound of arsenic. The obli¬ 
gations are not indeed alike enforced in a court of justice: the 
misuser of arsenic is carried to prison, the misuser of time and 
money awaits as sure an inquiry at another tribunal. But no 
folly is more absurd than that of supposing we have a right to do 
whatever the law does not punish. Such is the state of mankind, 
so great is the amount of misery and degradation, and so great are 
the effects of money and active philanthrophy in meliorating this 
condition of our species, that it is no light thing for a man to em¬ 
ploy his time and property upon vain and needless gratifications. 
It is no light thing to keep a pack of hounds and to spend days 
and weeks in riding after them. As to the torture which field 
sports inflict upon animals, it is wmnderful to observe our incon¬ 
sistencies. He who has, in the day, inflicted upon half a dozen 
animals almost as much torture as they are capable of sustaining, 
and who has wounded perhaps half a dozen more, and left them to 
die of pain or starvation, gives in the evening, a grave reproof to 
his child whom he sees amusing himself with picking off the wings 
of flies!—The infliction of pain is not that which gives pleasure to 
the sportsman, (this were ferocious depravity,) but he voluntarily 
inflicts the pain in order to please himself. Yet this man sighs 
and moralizes over the cruelty of children! An appropriate 
devise for a sportsman’s dress would be a pair of balances, of 
which one scale was laden with “Virtue and humanity,” and the 
other with “ Sport;” the latter should be preponderating and 
lifting the other into the air. 

The Turf is still worse, partly because it is a strong hold of 
gambling, and therefore an efficient cause of misery and wicked¬ 
ness. It is an amusement of almost unmingled evil. But upon 
whom is the evil chargeable 1 Upon the fifty or one hundred per¬ 
sons only, who bring horses and make bets 1 No : every man par¬ 
ticipates who attends the course. The great attraction of many 
public spectacles, and of this amongst others, consists more in the 
company than in the ostensible object of amusement. Many go to 
a race-ground who cannot tell when they return what horse has 
been the victor. Every one therefore who is present must take 
his share of the mischief and the responsibility. 

It is the same with respect to the gross and vulgar diversions of 


Chap. 14. WRESTLING.—OPINIONS OF POSTERITY. 283 

boxing, wrestling, and feats of running and riding. There is the 
same almost pure and unmingled evil,—the same popularity re¬ 
sulting from the concourses who attend, and by consequence, the 
participation and responsibility in those who do attend. The 
drunkenness, and the profaneness, and the debauchery, lie in part 
at the doors of those who are merely lookers on; and if these 
lookers on make pretensions to purity of character, their example 
is so much the more influential and their responsibility ten-fold in¬ 
creased. Defences of these gross amusements are ridiculous. 
One tells us of keeping up the national spirit, which is the same 
thing as to say that a human community is benefited by in¬ 
ducing into it the qualities of the bull-dog. Another expatiates 
upon invigorating the muscular strength of the poor, as if the 
English poor were under so little necessity to labour and to 
strengthen themselves by labour, that artificial means must be 
devised to increase their toil. 

The vicissitudes of folly are endless: the vulgar games of the 
present day may soon be displaced by others, the same in genus 
but differing in species. At the present moment, Wrestling has 
become the point of interest. A man is conveyed across the 
kingdom to try whether he can throw down another, and when he 
has done it, grave narratives of the feat are detailed in half the 
newspapers of the country! There is a grossness, a vulgarity, a 
want of mental elevation in these things, which might induce the 
man of intelligence to reprobate them even if the voice of morality 
were silent. They are remains of barbarism,—evidences that bar¬ 
barism still maintains itself amongst us,—proofs that the higher 
qualities of our nature are not sufficiently dominant over the lower. 

These grossnesses will pass away, as the deadly conflicts of men 
with beasts are passed already. Our posterity will wonder at the 
barbarism of us their fathers, as we wonder at the barbarism of 
Rome. Let him then who loves intellectual elevation, advance 
beyond the present times, and anticipate in the recreations which 
he encourages, that period when these divisions shall be regarded 
as indicating one of the intermediate stages between the fero¬ 
ciousness of mental darkness and the purity of mental light. 


These criticisms might be extended to many other species of 
amusement; and it is humiliating to discover that the conclusion 



284 


POPULAR AMUSEMENTS NEEDLESS. Essay 2. 


will very frequently be the same,—that the evil outbalances the 
good, and that there are no grounds upon which a good man can 
justify a participation in them. In thus concluding, it is possible 
that the reader may imagine that we would exclude enjoyment 
from the world, and substitute a system of irreproachable austerity. 
He who thinks this, is unacquainted with the nature and sources of 
our better enjoyments. It is an ordinary mistake to imagine that 
pleasure is great only when it is vivid or intemperate, as a child 
fancies it were more delightful to devour a pound of sugar at once 
than to eat an ounce daily in his food. It is happily and kindly 
provided that the greatest sum of enjoyment is that which is 
quietly and constantly induced. No men understand the nature 
of pleasure so well, or possess it so much, as those who find it 
within their own doors. If it were not that Moral Education is so 
bad, multitudes would seek enjoyment and find it here, who now 
fancy that they never partake of pleasure except in scenes of 
diversion. It is unquestionably true, that no community enjoys 
life more than that which excludes all these amusements from its 
sources of enjoyment. We use therefore the language, not of 
speculation but of experience, when we say, that none of them is 
in any degree necessary to the happiness of life. 


CHAPTER XV. 


DUELLING. 

It is not to much purpose to show that this strange practice is 
in itself wrong, because no one denies it. Other grounds of 
defence are taken, although to be sure there is a plain absurdity 
in conceding that a thing is wrong in morals, and then trying 
to show that it is proper to practise it. 

Public notions exempt a clergyman from the “necessity” of 
fighting duels, and they exempt other men from the “necessity” of 
demanding satisfaction for a clergyman’s insult. Now we ask the 
man of honour whether he would rather receive an insult from a 
military officer or from a clergyman. Which would give him the 
greater pain, and cause him the more concern and uneasiness ! 
That from the military officer, certainly. But why ! Because 
the officer’s affront leads to a duel and the clergyman’s does not. 
So, then, it is preferable to receive an insult to which the “ neces¬ 
sity” of fighting is not attached, than one to which it is attached. 
Why then attach the necessity to any man’s affront! You say 
that demanding satisfaction is a remedy for the evil of an insult. 
But we see that the evil, together with the remedy , is worse than 
the evil alone. Why then institute the remedy at all!—It is not 
indeed to be questioned that some insults may be forborne because 
it is known to what consequences they lead. But on the other 
hand, For what purpose does one man insult another! To give 
him pain: now we have just seen that the pain is so much the 
greater in consequence of the necessity” of fighting, and there¬ 
fore the motives to insult another, are increased. A man who 
wishes to inflict pain upon another, can inflict it more intensely in 
consequence of the system of duelling. 

The truth is, that men fancy the system is useful because they 
do not perceive how Public Opinion has been violently turned 
out of its natural and its usual course. When a military man is 
guilty of an insult, public disapprobation falls but lightly upon 




286 


INUTILITY OF DUELLING. 


Essay 2 . 


him. It reserves its force to direct against the insulted party if 
he does not demand satisfaction. But when a clergyman is guilty 
of an insult, public disapprobation falls upon him with undivided 
force. The insulted party receives no censure. Now if you take 
away the custom of demanding satisfaction, what will be the 
result 1 Why, that public opinion will revert to its natural course; 
it will direct all its penalties to the offending party, and by con¬ 
sequence restrain him from offending. It will act towards all men 
as it now acts towards the clergy; and if a clergyman were fre¬ 
quently to be guilty of insults, his character would be destroyed. 
The reader will perhaps more distinctly perceive that the fancied 
utility of duelling in preventing insults, results from this mis¬ 
direction of public opinion, by this brief argument: 

An individual either fears public opinion or he does not. 

If he does not fear it, the custom of duelling cannot prevent him 
from insulting whomsoever he pleases; because public opinion is 
the only thing which makes men fight, and he does not regard it. 

If he does fear public opinion, then the most effectual way of 
restraining him from insulting others, is by directing that opinion 
against the act of insulting,—just as it is now directed in the case 
of the clergy. 1 

Thus it is that we find—what he knows the perfection of 
Christian morality would expect—that Duelling, as it is immoral, 
so it is absurd. 

It appears to be forgotten that a duel is not more allowable to 
secure ourselves from censure or neglect, than any other violation 
of the Moral Law. If these motives constitute a justification of 
a duel, they constitute a justification of robbery or poisoning. To 
advocate duelling is not to defend one species of offence, but to 
assert the general right to violate the laws of God. If, as Dr. 
Johnson reasoned, the “ notions which prevail” make fighting 
right, they can make any thing right. Nothing is wanted, but 
to alter the “ notions which prevail,” and there is not a crime 
mentioned in the statute book that will not be lawful and honour¬ 
able to-morrow. 

It is usual with those who do foolish and vicious things, or who 
do things from foolish or vicious motives, to invent some fiction 
by which to veil the evil or folly, and to give it if possible a cre¬ 
ditable appearance. This has been done in the case of duelling. 
We hear a great deal about honour, and spirit, and courage, and 
1 See West. Rev. No. 7, Art. 2. 


Chap, 15 . 


INTELLECTUAL MEANNESS. 


287 


other qualities equally pleasant, and as it respects the duellist, 
equally fictitious. The want of sufficient honour, and spirit, and 
courage, is precisely the very reason why men fight. Pitt fought 
with Tierney; upon wffiich Pitt’s biographer writes—“ A mind 
like his, cast in no common mould, should have risen superior to 
a low and unworthy prejudice the folly of which it must have 
perceived and the wickedness of which it must have acknow¬ 
ledged. Could Mr. Pitt be led away by that false shame which 
subjects the decisions of reason to the control of fear, and 
renders the admonitions of conscience subservient to the powers 
of ridicule?” 1 Low prejudice, folly, wickedness, false shame, 
and fear, are the motives which the complacent duellist dignifies 
with the titles of honour, spirit, courage. This, to be sure, is very 
politic: he would not be so silly as to call his motives by their 
right names. Others, of course, join in the chicanery. They 
reflect that they themselves may one day have “ a meeting,” and 
they wish to keep up the credit of a system which they are con¬ 
scious they have not principle enough to reject. 

Put Christianity out of the question,—Would not even the 
philosophy of paganism have despised that littleness of principle 
which would not bear a man up in adhering to conduct which he 
knew to be right,—that littleness of principle which sacrifices the 
dictates of the understanding to an unworthy fear?—When a 
good man, rather than conform to some vicious institution of the 
papacy, stood firmly against the frowns and persecutions of the 
world, against obloquy and infamy, we say that his mental prin¬ 
ciples were great as well as good. If they were, the principles 
of the duellist are mean as well as vicious. He is afraid to be 
good and great. He knows the course which dignity and virtue 
prescribe, but he will not rise above those lower motives which 
prompt him to deviate from that course. It does not affect these 
conclusions to concede that he who is afraid to refuse a challenge 
may generally be a man of elevated mind. He may be such; 
but his refusal is an exception to his general character. It is an 
instance in which he impeaches his consistency in excellence. If 
it were consistent, if the whole mind had attained to the rightful 
stature of a Christian man, he would assuredly contemn in his 
practice the conduct which he disapproved in his heart. If you 
would show us a man of courage, bring forward him who will say, 

1 Gifford’s Life, vol. 1, p. 263. 



283 


FEAR AND SERVILITY. 


Essay 2 . 


I will not fight. Suppose a gentleman who, upon the principles 
which Gifford says should have actuated Pitt and all great minds, 
had thus refused to fight, and suppose him saying to his withdraw¬ 
ing friends—“ I have acted with perfect deliberation : I knew all 
the consequences of the course I have pursued: but I was per¬ 
suaded that I should act most like a man of intellect as well as 
like a Christian by declining the meeting; and therefore I declined 
it. I feel and deplore the consequences, though I do not deprecate 
them. I am not fearful, as I have not been fearful; for I appeal 
to yourselves whether I have not encountered the more appalling 
alternative,—whether it does not require a greater effort to do 
what I have done, and what I am at this moment doing, than to 
have met my opponent.”—Such a man’s magnanimity might not 
procure for him the companionship of his acquaintance, but it 
would do much more; it would obtain the suffrages of their judg¬ 
ments and their hearts. Whilst they continued perhaps exter¬ 
nally to neglect him, they would internally honour and admire. 
They would feel that his excellence was of an order to which they 
could make no pretensions; and they would feel, as they were 
practising this strange hypocrisy of vice, that they were the pro¬ 
per objects of contempt and pity. 

The species of slavery to which a man is sometimes reduced 
by being, as he calls it, “ obliged to fight,” is really pitiable. A 
British officer writes of a petulant and profligate class of men, 
one of whom is sometimes found in a regiment, and says, u Sen¬ 
sible that an officer must accept a challenge, he does not hesitate 
to deal them in abundance, and shortly acquires the name of a 
fighting man; but as every one is not willing to throw away his 
life when called upon by one who is indifferent to his own, many 
become condescending , which this man immediately construes into 
fear; and presuming upon this, he acts as if he imagined no one 
dare contradict him but all must yield obedience to his will” Here 
the servile bondage of which we speak is brought prominently 
out. Here is the crouching and unmanly fear. Here is the ab¬ 
ject submission of sense and reason to the grossest vulgarity of 
insolence, folly, and guilt. The officer presently gives an account 
of an instance in which the whole mess were domineered over by 
one of these fighting men;—and a pitiably ludicrous account it 
is. The man had invited them to dinner at some distance. “ On 
the day appointed, there came on a most violent snow storm, and 


Chap. 15. HINDOO IMMOLATIONS.—WILBERFORCE. 289 

in the morning we dispatched a servant with an apology.” But 
alas! these poor men could not use their own judgments as to 
whether they should ride in a “most violent snow storm” or not. 
The man sent back some rude message that he “ expected them.” 
They were afraid of what the fighting man would do next morn¬ 
ing, and so the whole mess, against their wills, actually rode “ near 
four miles in a heavy snow storm, and passed a day,” says the 
officer, “ that was without exception the most unpleasant I ever 
passed in my life!” 1 In the instance of these men, the motives 
to duelling as founded upon Fear, operated so powerfully that the 
officers were absolutely enslaved,—driven against their wills by 
Fear, as negroes are by a cart-whip. 

We are shocked and disgusted at the immolation of women 
amongst the Hindoos, and think that if such a sacrifice were 
attempted in England, it would excite feelings of the utmost re¬ 
pulsion and abhorrence. Of the custom of immolation, Duelling 
is the sister. Their parents are the same, and like other sisters, 
their lineaments are similar. Why does a Hindoo mount the 
funeral pile 1 To vindicate and maintain her honour. Why does 
an Englishman go to the heath with his pistols ? To vindicate and 
maintain his honour. What is the nature and character of the 
Hindoo’s honour? Quite factitious. Of the duellist’s? Quite 
factitious. How is the motive applied to the Hindoo ? To her 
fears of reproach. To the duellist? To his fears of reproach. 
What then is the difference between the two customs ? This,— 
That one is -practised in the midst of pagan darkness and the 
other in the midst of Christian light. And yet these very men 
give their guineas to the Missionary Society, lament the degrada¬ 
tion of the Hindoos, and expatiate upon the sacred duty of en¬ 
lightening them with Christianity ! “ Physician ! heal thyself, 

One consideration connected with duelling is of unusual inter¬ 
est. “ In the judgment of that religion which requires purity of 
heart, and of that Being to whom thought is action, he cannot be 
esteemed innocent of this crime, who lives in a settled, habitual, 
determination to commit it, when circumstances shall call upon 
him so to do. This is a consideration which places the crime of 
duelling on a different footing from almost any other; indeed there 
is perhaps no other, which mankind habitually and deliberately 
resolve to practise whenever the temptation shall occur. It shows 
1 Lieut. Auburey: Travels in North America. 


u 



*292 


UNMANLINESS OF SUICIDE. 


Essay 2 . 


receivethand the suffering, the scourging, is of little account 
in comparison with the prospects of another world. It is not 
worthy to he compared with the glory which shall follow,—that 
glory of which an exceeding and eternal weight is the reward of 
a “patient continuance in well doing.”—To him who thus regards 
misery, not as an evil hut as a good; not as the unrestrained 
assault of chance or malice, hut as the beneficent discipline of a 
Father ; to him who remembers that the time is approaching in 
which he will be able most feelingty to say, “ For all I bless 
Thee,—most for the severe ,”—every affliction is accompanied with 
its proper alleviation: the present hour may distress but it does 
not overwhelm him ; he may be perplexed but is not in despair : 
he sees the darkness and feels the storm, but he knows that light 
will again arise and that the storm will eventually be hushed with 
an efficacious, Peace, be still ; so that there shall be a great calm. 

Compared with these motives to avoid the first promptings to 
suicide, others are likely to be of little effect; and yet they are 
neither inconsiderable nor few. It is more dignified, more worthy 
an enlightened and manly understanding, to meet and endure an 
inevitable evil than to sink beneath it. The case of him who 
feels prompted to suicide, is something like that of the duellist as 
it was illustrated in the preceding chapter. Each sacrifices his 
life to his fears. The suicide balances between opposing ob¬ 
jects of dread, (for dreadful self-destruction must be supposed to 
be,) and chooses the alternative which he fears least. If his cou¬ 
rage, his firmness, his manliness, were greater, he who chooses 
the alternative of suicide, like him who chooses the duel, would 
endure the evil rather than avoid it in a manner which dignity 
and religion forbid. The lesson too which the self-destroyer 
teaches to his connections, of sinking in despair under the evils of 
life, is one of the most pernicious which a man can bequeath. 
The power of the example is also great. Every act of suicide 
tacitly conveys the sanction of one more judgment in its favour : 
frequency of repetition diminishes the sensation of abhorrence, 
and makes succeeding sufferers resort to it with less reluctance. 
“ Beside which general reasons, each case will be aggravated by 
its own proper and particular consequences ; by the duties that 
are deserted ; by the claims that are defrauded ; by the loss, 
affliction, or disgrace which our death, or the manner of it, causes 
our family, kindred, or friends ; by the occasion we give to many 


293 


Chap. 16. FOLLY OF SOME OF ITS MOTIVES. 

to suspect the sincerity of our moral and religious professions, and, 
together with ours, those of all others j” 1 and lastly, by the scandal 
which we bring upon religion itself by declaring, practically, that 
it is not able to support man under the calamities of life. 

Some men say that the New Testament contains no prohibition 
of suicide. If this were true, it would avail nothing, because there 
are many things which it does not forbid but which every one 
knows to be wicked. But in reality it does forbid it. Every ex¬ 
hortation which it gives to be patient, every encouragement to 
trust in God, every consideration which it urges as a support un¬ 
der affliction and distress, is a virtual prohibition of suicide;— 
because, if a man commits suicide, he rejects every such advice 
and encouragement, and disregards every such motive. 

To him who believes either in revealed or natural religion, there 
is a certain folly in the commission of suicide; for from what does 
he fly 1 From his present sufferings ; whilst death, for aught that 
he has reason to expect, or at any rate for aught that he knows, 
may only be the portal to sufferings more intense. Natural reli¬ 
gion, I think, gives no countenance to the supposition that suicide 
can be approved by the Deity, because it proceeds upon the belief 
that in another state of existence, he will compensate good men 
for the sufferings of the present. At the best, and under either 
religion, it is a desperate stake. He that commits murder niay 
repent, and we hope, be forgiven ; but he that destroys himself, 
whilst he incurs a load of guilt cuts off, by the act, the powder of 
repentance. 

Not every act of suicide is to be attributed to excess of misery. 
Some shoot themselves or throw themselves into a river in rage or 
revenge, in order to inflict pain and remorse upon those who have 
ill used them. Such, it is to be suspected, is sometimes a motive 
to self-destruction in disappointed love. The unhappy person 
leaves behind some message or letter, in the hope of exciting that 
affection and commiseration by the catastrophe which he could not 
excite when alive. Perhaps such persons hope, too, that the world 
will sigh over their early fate, tell of the fidelity of their loves, and 
throw a romantic melancholy over their story. This needs not to 
be a subject of wonder: unnumbered multitudes have embraced 
death in other forms from kindred motives. We hear continually 
of those who die for the sake of glory. This is but another phan- 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 4, 3. c. 


292 


UNMANLINESS OF SUICIDE. 


Essay 2 . 


receiveth and the suffering, the scourging, is of little account 
in comparison with the prospects of another world. It is not 
worthy to be compared with the glory which shall follow,—that 
glory of which an exceeding and eternal weight is the reward of 
a “patient continuance in well doing.”—To him who thus regards 
misery, not as an evil but as a good; not as the unrestrained 
assault of chance or malice, but as the beneficent discipline of a 
Father; to him who remembers that the time is approaching in 
which he will be able most feelingly to say, “ For all I bless 
Thee,—most for the severe ,”—every affliction is accompanied with 
its proper alleviation: the present hour may distress but it does 
not overwhelm him ; he may be perplexed but is not in despair : 
he sees the darkness and feels the storm, but he knows that light 
will again arise and that the storm will eventually be hushed with 
an efficacious, Peace, be still; so that there shall be a great calm. 

Compared with these motives to avoid the first promptings to 
suicide, others are likely to be of little effect; and yet they are 
neither inconsiderable nor few. It is more dignified, more worthy 
an enlightened and manly understanding, to meet and endure an 
inevitable evil than to sink beneath it. The case of him who 
feels prompted to suicide, is something like that of the duellist as 
it was illustrated in the preceding chapter. Each sacrifices his 
life to his fears. The suicide balances between opposing ob¬ 
jects of dread, (for dreadful self-destruction must be supposed to 
be,) and chooses the alternative which he fears least. If his cou¬ 
rage, his firmness, his manliness, were greater, he who chooses 
the alternative of suicide, like him who chooses the duel, would 
endure the evil rather than avoid it in a manner which dignity 
and religion forbid. The lesson too which the self-destroyer 
teaches to his connections, of sinking in despair under the evils of 
life, is one of the most pernicious which a man can bequeath. 
The power of the example is also great. Every act of suicide 
tacitly conveys the sanction of one more judgment in its favour : 
frequency of repetition diminishes the sensation of abhorrence, 
and makes succeeding sufferers resort to it with less reluctance. 
“ Beside which general reasons, each case will be aggravated by 
its own proper and particular consequences; by the duties that 
are deserted; by the claims that are defrauded; by the loss, 
affliction, or disgrace which our death, or the manner of it, causes 
our family, kindred, or friends; by the occasion we give to many 


293 


Chap. 16. FOLLY OF SOME OF ITS MOTIVES. 

to suspect the sincerity of our moral and religious professions, and, 
together with ours, those of all others;” 1 and lastly, by the scandal 
which we bring upon religion itself by declaring, practically, that 
it is not able to support man under the calamities of life. 

Some men say that the New Testament contains no prohibition 
of suicide. If this were true, it would avail nothing, because there 
are many things which it does not forbid but which every one 
knows to be wicked. But in reality it does forbid it. Every ex¬ 
hortation which it gives to be patient, every encouragement to 
trust in God, every consideration which it urges as a support un¬ 
der affliction and distress, is a virtual prohibition of suicide;— 
because, if a man commits suicide, he rejects every such advice 
and encouragement, and disregards every such motive. 

To him who believes either in revealed or natural religion, there 
is a certain folly in the commission of suicide; for from what does 
he fly ] From his present sufferings; whilst death, for aught that 
he has reason to expect, or at any rate for aught that he knows, 
may only be the portal to sufferings more intense. Natural reli¬ 
gion, I think, gives no countenance to the supposition that suicide 
can be approved by the Deity, because it proceeds upon the belief 
that in another state of existence, he will compensate good men 
for the sufferings of the present. At the best, and under either 
religion, it is a desperate stake. He that commits murder niay 
repent, and we hope, be forgiven; but he that destroys himself, 
whilst he incurs a load of guilt cuts off, by the act, the pow'er of 
repentance.' 

Not every act of suicide is to be attributed to excess of misery. 
Some shoot themselves or throw themselves into a river in rage or 
revenge, in order to inflict pain and remorse upon those who have 
ill used them. Such, it is to be suspected, is sometimes a motive 
to self-destruction in disappointed love. The unhappy person 
leaves behind some message or letter, in the hope of exciting that 
affection and commiseration by the catastrophe which he could not 
excite when alive. Perhaps such persons hope, too, that the world 
will sigh over their early fate, tell of the fidelity of their loves, and 
throw a romantic melancholy over their story. This needs not to 
be a subject of wonder: unnumbered multitudes have embraced 
death in other forms from kindred motives. We hear continually 
of those who die for the sake of glory. This is but another phan- 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 4, 3. c. 


294 


VERDICT OF FELO DE SE. 


Essay 2 . 


tom, and the less amiable phantom of the two. It is just as rea¬ 
sonable to die in order that the world may admire our true love as 
in order that it may admire our bravery. And the lover’s hope 
is the better founded. There are too many aspirants for glory for 
each to get even his “peppercorn of praise.” But the lover may 
hope for higher honours; a paragraph may record his fate through 
the existence of a weekly paper; he may be talked of through 
half a county; and some kindred spirit may inscribe a tributary 
sonnet in a lady’s album. 


To legislate efficiently upon the crime of suicide is difficult if it 
is not impossible. As the legislator cannot inflict a penalty upon 
the offender, the act must pass with impunity unless the penalty 
is made to fall upon the innocent. I say the penalty; for such it 
w'ould actually be, whatever were the provision of the law,—whe¬ 
ther, for instance, confiscation of property, or indignity to the re¬ 
mains of the dead. One would make a family poor, and the other 
perhaps unhappy. It does not appear just or reasonable that these 
should suffer for an offence which they could not prevent and by 
which they, above all others, are already injured and distressed. 

One thing appears to be clear, that it is vain for a legislature 
to attempt any interference of winch the people do not approve. 
This is evident from the experience in our own country, wfliere 
coroner’s juries prefer perjuring themselves to pronouncing a ver¬ 
dict of felo de se, by which the remains w T ould be subjected to 
barbarous indignities. Coroners’ inquests seem to proceed rather 
upon the pre-supposition that he who destroys himself is insane, 
than upon the evidence which is brought before them; and thus, 
whilst the law is evaded, perjury it is to be feared is very fre¬ 
quent. That the public mind disapproves the existing law is a 
good reason for altering it, but it is not a good reason why coro¬ 
ners’ juries should violate their oaths, and give encouragement to 
the suicide by telling him that disgrace will be warded off from 
his memory and from his family by a generous verdict of insanity. 
It has been said that it is a common thing for a suicide’s friends 
to fee the coroner in order to induce him to prevent a verdict of 
felo de se. If this be true, it is indeed time that the arm of the 
law should be vigorously extended. What punishment is due to 



Chap. 16. LEGISLATION RESPECTING SUICIDE. 


295 


the man who accepts a purse as a reward for inducing twelve per¬ 
sons to commit perjury 1 It is probable too, that half a dozen just 
verdicts, by which the law was allowed to take its course, would 
occasion the abolition of the disgusting statute; 1 for the public 
would not bear that it should be acted upon. 

The great object is to associate, with the act of suicide, ideas of 
guilt and horror in the public mind. This association would be 
likely to preclude, in individuals, that first complacent contempla¬ 
tion of the act which probably precedes, by a long interval, the act 
itself. The anxiety which the surviving friends manifest for a 
verdict of “ insanity” is a proof how great is the power of imagi¬ 
nation, and how much they are in dread of public opinion. They 
are anxious that the disgrace and reproach of conscious self-murder 
should not cling to their family. This is precisely that anxiety 
of which the legislator should avail himself, by enactments that 
would require satisfactory proof of insanity, and which, in default 
of such proof, would leave to its full force the stigma and the pain, 
and excite a sense of horror of the act and a perception of its 
wickedness in the public mind. The point for the exercise of 
legislative wisdom is, to devise such an ultimate procedure as 
shall call forth these feelings, but as shall not become nugatory by 
being more dreadful than the public will endure. What that pro¬ 
cedure should be, I pretend not to describe; but it may be observed 
that the simple circumstance of pronouncing a public verdict of 
conscious self-murder , would, amongst a people of good feelings, go 
far towards the production of the desired effect.—As the law now 
exists and as it is now violated, the tendency is exactly the con¬ 
trary of what it ought to be. By the almost universal custom 
wdiich it generates of declaring suicides to have been insane, it 
effectually diminishes that pain to individuals, and that horror in 
the public, which the crime itself would naturally occasion. 

1 This statute has been repealed; and the law now simply requires, when a ver¬ 
dict of felo de se is returned, that the body shall be interred privately, at night, and 
without the funeral service. Ed. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


RIGHTS OF SELF-DEFENCE. 

The right of defending ourselves against violence is easily de- 
ducible from the Law of Nature. There is however little need to 
deduce it, because mankind are at least sufficiently persuaded of 
its lawfulness.—The great question, which the opinions and prin¬ 
ciples that now influence the world makes it needful to discuss is, 
Whether the right of self-defence is absolute and unconditional,— 
Whether every action whatever is lawful, provided it is necessary 
to the preservation of life 1 They who maintain the affirmative, 
maintain a great deal; for they maintain that whenever life is 
endangered, all rules of morality are, as it respects the individual, 
suspended, annihilated : every moral obligation is taken away by 
the single fact that life is threatened. 

Yet the language that is ordinarily held upon the subject im¬ 
plies the supposition of all this. “ If our lives are threatened with 
assassination or open violence from the hands of robbers or ene¬ 
mies, any means of defence would be allowed and laudable.” 1 
Again: “ There is one case in which all extremities are justifi¬ 
able, namely, when our life is assaulted and it becomes necessary 
for our preservation to kill the assailant.” 2 

The reader may the more willingly inquire whether these pro¬ 
positions are true, because most of those who lay them down are 
at little pains to prove their truth. Men are extremely willing to 
acquiesce in it without proof, and writers and speakers think it 
unnecessary to adduce it. Thus perhaps it happens that fallacy 
is not detected because it is not sought.—If the reader should 
think that some of the instances which follow are remote from the 
ordinary affairs of life, he is requested to remember that we are 
discussing the soundness of an alleged absolute rule. If it be 
found that there are or have been cases in which it is not abso¬ 
lute,—'Cases in which all extremities are not lawful in defence of 
i Grotius : Rights of War and Peace. 2 Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3, b. 4, c. 1. 



LIMITS TO THE RIGHTS. 


Chap * 17. 


297 


life,—then the rule is not sound: then there are some limits to 
the Right of Self-Defence. 

If “any means of defence are laudable,” if “ all extremities are 
justifiable,” then they are not confined to acts of resistance to the 
assailing party. There may be other conditions upon which life 
may be preserved than that of violence towards him. Some ruf¬ 
fians seize a man in the highway, and will kill him unless he will 
conduct them to his neighbour’s property and assist them in car¬ 
rying it off. May this man unite with them in the robbery in 
order to save his life, or may he not 1 If he may, what becomes 
of the law, Thou shalt not steal ? If he may not, then not every 
means by which a man may preserve his life is “ laudable” or 
“ allowed.” We have found an exception to the rule. There are 
twenty other wicked things which violent men may make the 
sole condition of not taking our lives. Do all wicked things be¬ 
come lawful because life is at stake 1 If they do, Morality 
surely is at an end: if they do not, such propositions as those 
of Grotius and Paley are untrue. 

A pagan has unalterably resolved to offer me up in sacrifice on the 
morrow, unless I will acknowledge the deity of his gods and wor¬ 
ship them. I shall presume that the Christian will regard these 
acts as being, under every possible circumstance, unlawful. The 
night offers me an opportunity of assassinating him. Now I am 
placed, so far as the argument is concerned, in precisely the same 
situation with respect to this man, as a traveller is with respect 
to a ruffian with a pistol. Life in both cases depends on killing 
the offender. Both are acts of self-defence. Am I at liberty to 
assassinate this man ] The heart of the Christian surely answers, 
No. Here then is a case in which I may not take a violent man’s 
life in order to save my own.—We have said that the heart of 
the Christian answers, No: and this we think is a just species of 
appeal. But if any one doubts whether the assassination would 
be unlawful, let him consider whether one of the Christian apos¬ 
tles would have committed it in such a case. Here, at any rate, 
the heart of every man answers, No. And mark the reason,— 
because every man perceives that the act would have been palpa¬ 
bly inconsistent with the apostolic character and conduct; or, 
which is the same thing, with a Christian character and conduct. 

Or put such a case in a somewhat different form. A furious 
Turk holds a scimitar over my head, and declares he will instantly 


298 A LIMIT TO THE RIGHT OF SELF DEFENCE. Essay 2. 


dispatch me unless I abjure Christianity and acknowledge the 
divine legation of “the prophet.” Now there are two supposable 
ways in which I may save my life; one by contriving to stab the 
Turk, and one “by denying Christ before men.” You say I am 
not at liberty to deny Christ, but I am at liberty to stab the 
man, Why am I not at liberty to deny Him 1 Because Christ¬ 
ianity forbids it. Then we require you to show that Christianity 
does not forbid you to take his life. Our religion pronounces both 
actions to be wrong. You say that under these circumstances, 
the killing is right. Where is your proof 1 What is the ground 
of your distinction 1—But, whether it can be adduced or not, our 
immediate argument is established,—That there are some things 
which it is not lawful to do in order to preserve our lives. This 
conclusion has indeed been practically acted upon. A company 
of inquisitors and their agents are about to conduct a good man to 
the stake. If he could by any means destroy these men, he might 
save his life. It is a question therefore of self-defence. Supposing 
these means to be within his power,-—supposing he could contrive 
a mine, and by suddenly firing it, blow his persecutors into the 
air,—would it be lawful and Christian thus to act \ No. The 
common judgments of mankind respecting the right temper and 
conduct of the martyr, pronounce it to be wrong. It is pronounced 
to be wrong by the language and example of the first teachers of 
Christianity. The conclusion therefore again is, that all extremi¬ 
ties are not allowable in order to preserve life;—that there is a 
limit to the right of self-defence. 

It would be to no purpose to say that in some of the instances 
which have been proposed, religious duties interfere with and 
limit the rights of self-defence. This is a common fallacy. Reli¬ 
gious duties and moral duties are identical in point of obligation, 
for they are imposed by one authority. Religious duties are not 
obligatory for any other reason than that which attaches to moral 
duties also; namely, the Will of God. He who violates the Mo¬ 
ral Law is as truly unfaithful in his allegiance to God, as he who 
denies Christ before men. 

So that we come at last to one single and simple question, whe¬ 
ther taking the life of a person who threatens ours, is or is not 
compatible with the Moral Law. We refer for an answer to the 
broad principles of Christian piety and Christian benevolence; 
that piety which reposes habitual confidence in the Divine Provi- 


Chap. 17. LIMITS IN THE CASE OF PERSONAL ATTACK. 299 

dence and an habitual preference of futurity to the present time ; 
and that benevolence which not only loves our neighbours as our¬ 
selves, but feels that the Samaritan or the enemy is a neighbour. 
There is no conjuncture in life in which the exercise of this bene¬ 
volence may be suspended; none in which we are not required to 
maintain and to practice it. Whether Want implores our com¬ 
passion, or Ingratitude returns ills for our kindness; whether a 
fellow creature is drowning in a river or assailing us on the high¬ 
way; every where, and under all circumstances, the duty remains. 

Is killing an assailant, then, within or without the limits of this 
Benevolence 1—As to the man, it is evident that no good will is 
exercised towards him by shooting him through the head. Who 
indeed will dispute that, before we can thus destroy him, benevo¬ 
lence towards him must be excluded from our minds'? We not 
only exercise no benevolence ourselves, but preclude him from 
receiving it from any human heart; and, which is a serious item 
in the account, we cut him off from all possibility of reformation. 
To call sinners to repentance, was one of the great characteristics 
of the mission of Christ. Does it appear consistent with this cha¬ 
racteristic for one of His followers to take away from a sinner the 
power of repentance 1 Is it an act that accords, and is congruous, 
with Christian love 1 

But an argument has been attempted here. That we may 
“ kill the assailant is evident in a state of nature, unless it can be 
shown that we are bound to prefer the aggressor’s life to our own; 
that is to say, to-love our enemy better than ourselves, which can 
never be a debt of justice nor any where appears to be a duty of 
charity.” 1 The answer is this: That although we may not be 
required to love our enemy better than ourselves, we are required 
to love him as ourselves ; and therefore, in the supposed case, it 
would still be a question equally balanced which life ought to be 
sacrificed ; for it is quite clear that if we kill the assailant, we 
love him less than ourselves, which does seem to militate against 
a duty of charity. But the truth is that he who, from motives of 
obedience to the will of God, spares the aggressor’s life even to 
the endangering his own, does exercise love both to the aggres¬ 
sor and to himself, perfectly : to the aggressor, because by sparing 
his life we give him the opportunity of repentance and amend¬ 
ment : to himself, because every act of obedience to God is perfect 
1 Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3, b. 4, c. 1. 




300 PERSONAL ATTACK. Essay 2. 

benevolence towards ourselves; it is consulting and promoting 
our most valuable interests; it is propitiating the favour of him 
who is emphatically “ a rich re warder.”—So that the question 
remains as before, not whether we should love our enemy better 
than ourselves but whether Christian principles are acted upon 
in destroying him; and if they are not, whether we should prefer 
Christianity to ourselves; whether we should be willing to lose 
our life for Christ’s sake and the gospel’s. 

Perhaps it will be said that we should exercise benevolence to 
the public as well as to the offender, and that we may exercise 
more benevolence to them by killing than by sparing him. But 
very few persons, when they kill a man who attacks them, kill 
him out of benevolence to the public. That is not the motive 
which influences their conduct or which they at all take into the 
account. Besides, it. is by no means certain that the public v/ould 
lose any thing by the forbearance. To be sure, a man can do no 
more mischief after he is killed; but then it is to be remembered, 
that robbers are more desperate and more murderous from the ap¬ 
prehension of swords and pistols than they would be without it. 
Men are desperate in proportion to their apprehensions of danger. 
The plunderer who feels a confidence that his own life will not be 
taken, may conduct his plunder with comparative gentleness; 
whilst he who knows that his life is in immediate jeopardy, stuns 
or murders his victim lest he should be killed himself. The great 
evil which a family sustains by a robbery is often not the loss, 
but the terror and the danger; and these are the evils which, by 
the exercise of forbearance, would be diminished. So that if some 
bad men are prevented from committing robberies by the fear of 
death, the public gains in other ways by the forbearance: nor is 
it by any means certain that the balance of advantages is in favour 
of the more violent course.—The argument which we are opposing 
proceeds on the supposition that our own lives are endangered. 
Now it is a fact that this very danger results, in part, from the 
want of habits of forbearance. We publicly profess that we 
would kill an assailant; and the assailant, knowing this, prepares 
to kill us when otherwise he would forbear. 

And after all, if it were granted that a person is at liberty to 
take an assailant’s life in order to preserve his own, how is he to 
know, in the majority of instances, whether his own would be 
taken 1 When a man breaks into a person’s house, and this per- 


301 


Chap. 17. PRESERVATION OF PROPERTY. 

son as soon as he comes up with the robber, takes out a pistol and 
shoots him, we are not to be told that this man was killed “ in 
defence of life.” Or go a step further, and a step further still 
by which the intention of the robber to commit personal violence 
or inflict death is more and more probable:—you must at last 
shoot him in uncertainty whether your life was endangered or not. 
Besides, you can withdraw,—you can fly. None but the prede¬ 
termined murderer wishes to commit murder. But perhaps you 
exclaim—“ Fly! Fly, and leave your property unprotected!” 
Yes,—unless you mean to say that preservation of property, as 
well as preservation of life, makes it lawful to kill an offender. 
This were to adopt a new and a very different proposition; but a 
proposition which I suspect cannot be separated in practice from 
the former. He who affirms that he may kill another in order to 
preserve his life, and that he may endanger his life in order to 
protect his property, does in reality affirm that he may kill ano¬ 
ther in order to preserve his property. But such a proposition, 
in an unconditional form, no one surely will tolerate. The laws of 
the land do not admit it, nor do they even admit the right of 
taking another’s life simply because he is attempting to take ours. 
They require that we should be tender even of the murderer’s life, 
and that we should fly rather than destroy it. 1 

We say that the proposition that we may take life in order to 
preserve our property is intolerable. To preserve how much 1 five 
hundred pounds, or fifty, or ten, or a shilling, or a sixpence ] It 
has actually been declared that the rights of self-defence “justify 
a man in taking all forcible methods which are necessary in order 
to procure the restitution of the freedom or the property of which 
he had been unjustly deprived.” 2 All forcible methods to obtain 
restitution of property ! No limit to the nature or effects of the 
force! No limit to the insignificance of the amount of the pro¬ 
perty ! Apply, then, the rule. A boy snatches a bunch of grapes 
from a fruiterer’s stall. The fruiterer runs after the thief but finds 
that he is too light of foot to be overtaken. Moreover the boy eats 
as he runs. “ All forcible methods,” reasons the fruiterer, “are 
justifiable to obtain restitution of property. I may fire after the 
plunderer, and when he falls, regain my grapes.” All this is just 
and right, if Gisborne’s proposition is true. It is a dangerous thing 
to lay down maxims in morality. 

The conclusion then to which we are led by these inquiries is, 

i Blackstone : Com. v. 4, c. 4. 2 Gisborne: Moral Philosophy. 


302 EFFECTS OF FORBEARANCE. Essay 2. 

that he who kills another, even upon the plea of self-defence, does 
not do it in the predominance nor in the exercise of Christian dis¬ 
positions ; and if this is true, is it not also true, that his life 
cannot be thus taken in conformity with the Christian law ? 

But this is very far from concluding that no resistance may be 
made to aggression. We may make, and we ought to make, a 
great deal. It is the duty of the civil magistrate to repress the 
violence of one man towards another, and by consequence it is 
the duty of the individual, when the civil power cannot operate, 
to endeavour to repress it himself. I perceive no reasonable ex¬ 
ception to the rule,—that whatever Christianity permits the ma¬ 
gistrate to do in order to restrain violence, it permits the individual, 
under such circumstances, to do also. I know the consequences 
to which this rule leads in the case of the 'punishment of death, 
and of other questions. These questions will hereafter be dis¬ 
cussed. In the mean time it may be an act of candour to the 
reader to acknowledge, that our chief motive for the discussions 
of the present chapter, has been to pioneer the way for a satisfac¬ 
tory investigation of the Punishment of Death, and of other modes 
by which human life is taken away. 

Many kinds of resistance to aggression come strictly within the 
fulfilment of the law of benevolence. He who by securing, or 
temporarily disabling a man, prevents him from committing an act 
of great turpitude, is certainly his benefactor ; and if he be thus 
reserved for justice, the benevolence is great both to him and to 
the public. It is an act of much kindness to a bad man to secure 
him for the penalties of the law : or it would be such, if penal law 
were in the state in w r hich it ought to be, and to which it appears 
to be making some approaches. It would then be very probable 
that the man would be reformed; and this is the greatest benefit 
which can be conferred upon him and upon the community. 

The exercise of Christian forbearance towards violent men is 
not tantamount to an invitation of outrage. Cowardice is one 
thing; this forbearance is another. The man of true forbearance 
is of all men the least cowardly. It requires courage in a greater 
degree and of a higher order to practise it when life is threatened, 
than to draw a sword or fire a pistol.—No : It is the peculiar pri¬ 
vilege of Christian virtue to approve itself even to the bad. There 
is something in the nature of that calmness, and self-possession, 
and forbearance, that religion effects, which obtains, nay which 
almost commands regard and respect. How different the effect 


Chap. 17. ARCHBISHOP SHARPE.—BARCLAY. 


303 


upon the violent tenants of Newgate, the hardihood of a turnkey 
and the mild courage of an Elizabeth Fry! Experience, incon¬ 
testable experience, has proved, that the minds of few men are so 
depraved or desperate as to prevent them from being influenced 
by real Christian conduct. Let him therefore who advocates the 
taking the life of an aggressor, first show that all other means of 
safety are vain ; let him show that bad men, notwithstanding the 
exercise of true Christian forbearance, persist in their purposes of 
death: — when he has done this he will have adduced an argument 
in favour of taking their lives which will not, indeed, be conclu¬ 
sive, but which, will approach nearer to conclusiveness than any 
that has yet been adduced. 

Of the consequences of forbearance, even in the case of per¬ 
sonal attack, there are some examples : Archbishop Sharpe was 
assaulted by a footpad on the highway, who presented a pistol 
and demanded his money. The Archbishop spoke to the robber 
in the language of a fellow man and of a Christian. The man 
was really in distress, and the prelate gave him such money as he 
had, and promised that if he would call at the palace, he would 
make up the amount to fifty pounds. This was the sum of which 
the robber had said he stood in the utmost need. The man called 
and received the money. About a year and a half afterwards, 
this man again came to the palace and brought back the same 
sum. He said that his circumstances had become improved, and 
that, through the “ astonishing goodness” of the Archbishop, he 
had become “ the most penitent, the most grateful, and happiest 
of his species.”—Let the reader consider how different the Arch¬ 
bishop's feelings were, from what they would have been if, by his 
hand, this man had been cut off. 1 

Barclay the Apologist was attacked by a highwayman. He 
substituted for the ordinary modes of resistance, a calm expostu¬ 
lation. The felon dropped his presented pistol, and offered no 
further violence. A Leonard Fell was similarly attacked, and 
from him the robber took both his money and his horse, and then 
threatened to blow out his brains. Fell solemnly spoke to the 
man on the wickedness of his life. The robber was astonished : 
he had expected, perhaps, curses, or perhaps, a dagger. He de¬ 
clared he would not keep either the horse or the money, and 
returned both. “ If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; for in so 
1 See Lond. Chrcm. Aug. 12, 1785. See also life of Granville Sharpe, Esq. p. 13. 




304 


EFFECTS OF FORBEARANCE. 


Essay 2 . 


.doing thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head.” 1 —The tenor 
of the short narrative that follows is somewhat different. Ellwood, 
who is known to the literary world as the suggester, to Milton, of 
Paradise Regained, was attending his father in his coach. Two 
men waylaid them in the dark and stopped the carriage. Young 
Ellwood got out and on going up to the nearest, the ruffian raised 
a heavy club, “ when,” says Ellwood, “ I whipt out my rapier and 
made a pass upon him. I could not have failed running him 
through up to the hilt,” but the sudden appearance of the bright 
blade terrified the man so that he stepped aside, avoided the 
thrust, and both he and the other fled. “ At that time,” proceeds 
Ellwood, “ and for a good while after, I had no regret upon my 
mind for what I had done.” This was whilst he was young and 
when the forbearing principles of Christianity had little influence 
upon him. But, afterwards, when this influence became powerful, 
“a sort of horror,” he says, “seized on me when I considered 
how near I had been to the staining of my hands with human 
blood. And whensoever afterwards I went that way, and indeed 
as often since as the matter has come into my remembrance, my 
soul has blessed Him who preserved and withheld me from shed¬ 
ding man’s blood.” 2 

That those over whom, as over Ellwood, the influence of Christ¬ 
ianity is imperfect and weak, should think themselves at liberty 
upon such occasions to take the lives of their fellow men, needs to 
be no subject of wonder. Christianity, if we would rightly esti¬ 
mate its obligations, must be felt in the heart. They in whose 
hearts it is not felt or felt but little, cannot be expected perfectly 
to know what its obligations are. I know not therefore that 
more appropriate advice can be given to him who contends for the 
lawfulness of taking another man’s life in order to save his own, 
than that he would first inquire whether the influence of religion 
is dominant in his mind. If it is not, let him suspend his deci¬ 
sion until he has attained to the fulness of the stature of a Christ¬ 
ian man. Then, as he will be of that number who do the will of 
Heaven, he may hope to “ know, of this doctrine, whether it be 
of God.” 

1 “ Select Anecdotes, &c.” by John Barclay. * Ellwood’s Life. 


END OF THE SECOND ESSAY. 


ESSAY III . 1 


POLITICAL RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS. 


CHAPTER I. 


PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL TRUTH, AND OF POLITICAL 
RECTITUDE. 

The Fundamental principles which are deducible from the law 
of nature and from Christianity, respecting political affairs, ap¬ 
pear to be these :— 

1. Political Power is rightly possessed only when it is possessed 
by consent of the community :— 

2. It is rightly exercised only when it subserves the welfare of 
the community;— 

3. And only when it subserves this purpose, by means which 
the Moral Law permits. 

P This Essay the author did not live to revise, a circumstance which will account 
for a want of complete connection of the different parts of a subject which the reader 
will sometimes meet with. There occur also in this part of the manuscript numer¬ 
ous memoranda, which the author intended to make use of in a future revision. 
These are to he distinguished from the Notes, as the former refer, not to any particu¬ 
lar passage, hut only to the subject of the chapter or section. They were hastily, as 
the thought occurred, written in the margin or on a blank leaf of the manuscript, and 
they are here introduced at the bottom of the page, in those parts to which they 
appear to have the nearest reference. Ed.] 


X 




306 


GOVERNORS ARE TIIE 


Essay 3 . 


I. 

“ POLITICAL POWER IS RIGHTLY POSSESSED ONLY WHEN IT 
IS POSSESSED BY CONSENT OF THE COMMUNITY.” 

Perfect liberty is desirable if it were consistent with the great¬ 
est degree of happiness. But it is not. Men find that by giving 
up a part of their liberty, they are more happy than by retaining, 
or attempting to retain, the whole. Government, whatever be its 
form, is the agent by which the inexpedient portion of individual 
liberty is taken away. Men institute government for their own 
advantage, and because they find they are more happy with it 
than without it. This is the sole reason, in principle, how little 
soever it be adverted to in practice. Governors therefore are the 
officers of the public, in the proper sense of the word: not the 
slaves of the public; for if they do not incline to conform to the 
public will, they are at liberty, like other officers, to give up their 
office. They are servants, in the same manner, and for the same 
purpose, as a solicitor is the servant of his client, and the pl^si- 
cian of his patient. These are employed by the patient or the 
client voluntarily for his own advantage, and for nothing else. A 
nation, (not an individual, but a nation ,) is under no other obliga¬ 
tion to obedience, than that which arises from the conviction that 
obedience is good for itself:—or rather, in more proper language, 
a nation is under no obligation to obedience at all. Obedience is 
voluntary. If they do not think it proper to obey,—that is, if 
they are not satisfied with their officers,—they are at liberty to 
discontinue their obedience, and to appoint other officers instead. 

That which is thus true as an universal proposition, is asserted 
with respect to this country by the present king A—“ The powers 
and prerogatives of the Crown are vested there as a trust for the 
benefit of the people; and they are sacred only as they are neces¬ 
sary to the preservation of that poise and balance of the consti¬ 
tution which experience has proved to be the best security of the 
liberty of the subject” 2 

It is incidental to the office of the First public servants, that 
they should exercise authority over those by whom they are se¬ 
lected; and hence, probably, it has happened that the terms 

1 George IV. 2 Letter when Prince of Wales, to Wm. Pitt. Gifford’s 

Life of Pitt, vol. 2. 


OFFICERS OF THE PUBLIC. 


307 


Chap. 1 . 


“ public officer/’ “ public servant,” have excited such strange 
controversies in the world. Men have not maintained sufficient 
discrimination of ideas. Seeing that governors are great and 
authoritative, a man imagines it cannot be proper to say they are 
servants. Seeing that it is necessary and right that individuals 
should obey, he cannot entertain the notion that they are the 
servants of those whom they govern. The truth is, that governors 
are not the servants of individuals but of the community. They 
are the masters of individuals, the servants of the public; and if 
this simple distinction had been sufficiently borne in mind, much 
perhaps of the vehement contention upon these matters had been 
avoided. 

But the idea of being a servant of the public, is quite consistent 
with the idea of exercising authority over them. The common 
language of a patient is founded upon similar grounds. He sends 
for a physician : —the physician comes at his desire,—is paid for 
his services,—and then the patient says, I am ordered to adopt a 
regimen, I am ordered to Italyand he obeys, not because he 
may not refuse to obey if he chooses, but because he confides in 
the judgment of the physician, and thinks that it is more to his 
benefit to be guided by the physician’s judgment than by his own. 
But it will be said the physician cannot enforce his orders upon 
the patient against his will : neither I answer can the governor 
enforce his upon the public against theirs. No doubt Governors 
do sometimes so enforce them. What they do, however, and what 
they rightfully do, are separate considerations, and our business 
is only with the latter. 

Grotius argues that sovereign power may be possessed by go¬ 
vernors, so that it shall not rightfully belong to the community. 
He says, “ From the Jewish as well as the Roman law it appears, 
that any one might engage himself in private servitude to whom 
he pleased. Now if an individual may do so, why may not a 
whole people, for the benefit of better government and more cer¬ 
tain protection, completely transfer their sovereign rights to one 
or more persons without reserving any portion to themselves I” 1 — 
I answer, No individual may do this : and, If he might, it would 
not serve the doctrine in the case of nations.—It never can be 
right for a man to resign the absolute direction of his conduct to 
another, because he must then do actions good or bad as that other 

1 Rights of War and Peace, b. 1. c. 3, s. 8. 




308 


THE PEOPLE HOLD 


Essay 3 . 


might command,—he must lie, or rob, or assassinate; and of this 
common sense would pronounce the impropriety, if the Moral Law 
did not. And if you say a man ought not so to resign himself to 
another, then I answer, he does not transfer sovereign power but 
retains it himself,—which, in truth, ends the argument. 

But if the doctrine were sound for the individual, it is unsound 
for a community. What is meant by the “ transfer of their sove¬ 
reign rights by a whole people ?” Is every man woman and child 
in the country formally to sign the transfer 1 If not, how shall a 
whole people transfer it 1 At any rate if they did, their resigna¬ 
tion could not bind their children or successors. Besides, there is 
the same objection to this transfer of the sovereign power on the 
part of a nation as on the part of an individual. The thing is 
absurd in reason, and criminal in morals. 

Grotius illustrates his argument by “ that authority to which a 
woman submits when she gives herself to her husband.” But 
she does not submit to sovereign authority. He says again, “ some 
powers are conferred for the sake of the governor, as the right of a 
master over a slave.” But such powers are never justly conferred. 

After all, these arguments do but establish, in reality, the fun¬ 
damental position. They assume that a people can resign the 
sovereign power; which is the same thing as to acknowledge that 
they rightfully possess it. Grotius himself says, “ A state is a 
perfect body of free men, united together in order to enjoy com¬ 
mon rights and advantages.” 1 

It gives some anxiety to the mind of the writer, lest the reader 
should identify his principles with those of many who have asserted 
the “ sovereignty of the people.” This doctrine has been insisted 
upon by persons who have mingled with it, or deduced from it, 
principles which the writer not merely rejects, but abhors. A 
doctrine is not unsound because it has been advocated or perverted 
by bad men; and it is neither rational nor honest to reprobate a 
truth because it has been viciously associated. Gifford, in his life 
of Pitt, complains of Fox, who by “ a strange perversion of terms 
and a confusion of intellect that would have disgraced even a 
schoolboy, called his sovereign the servant of the people.” “ This,” 
says Gifford, “was a servile imitation of the French regicides, 
and a direct encouragement to all the theoretical reveries of ail 
the disaffected in England.” This is the species of association 

1 Rights of War and Peace. 




Chap. 1 . 


THE SOVEREIGN POWER. 


309 


which I would deprecate : French regicides taught the doctrine, 
and disaffected theorists taught it. I am sorry that a truth should 
be so connected; but it is not the less a truth. The “ confusion 
of intellect” of which Gifford speaks probably subsisted more in 
the writer than in Fox,—for reasons which the reader has just 
seen, and because the biographer had probably confounded the 
doctrine with the conduct of some who supported it. The reader 
should practise a little of the power of abstraction, and detach 
accidental associations from truth itself. 

In reality, it cannot be asserted that the people do not right¬ 
fully possess the supreme power, without asserting that governors 
may do what they will, and be as tyrannical as they will. Who 
may prevent them 1 The people \ Then the people hold the 
sovereign power. 

Many political constitutions have existed in which the governor 
was held to be absolutely the supreme power. The antiquity of 
such constitutions, or the regular succession of the existing go¬ 
vernor, does not make his pretensions to this power just, because 
the principles on which it is ascertained that the people are 
supreme, are antecedent to all questions of usage and superior to 
them. No injustice, therefore, is done,—nothing wrong is done, 
—in diminishing or taking away the power of an absolute mo¬ 
narch, notwithstanding the regularity of his pretensions to it. 
Yet other principles have been held: and it was said of Louis 
the sixteenth, that as he “was the sole maker and executor of the 
laws,” and as this power “hadbeen exercised by him and by his 
ancestors for centuries without question or control, it was not in 
the power of the states to deprive him of any portion of it without 
his own consent.” So that we are told that many millions of 
persons ought to be subject for ever to the vices or caprices of one 
man, in compliment to the fact that their predecessors had been 
•subject before them. 1 He who maintains such doctrine surely 
forgets for what purpose government is instituted at all. 

1 We do not here defend the conduct of the states, or censure that of Louis: we 
speak merely of the political Truth. That atrocious course of wickedness, the French 
Revolution, was occasioned by the abuses of the old government and its ramifications. 
The French people, unhappily, had neither virtue enough nor political knowledge 
enough, to reform these abuses by proper means. A revolution of some Tcind, and at 
some period, awaits, I doubt not, every despotic government in Europe and in the 
world. Happy will it be for those rulers who timely and wisely regard the irresist¬ 
ible progress of Public Opinion ! And happy for those communities which endeavour 
reformation only by virtuous means ! 


310 


RIGHT OF GOVERNORS. 


Essay 3 . 


The rule that “ Political Power is rightly possessed only when 
it is possessed by consent of the community,” necessarily applies 
to the choice of the person who is to exercise it. No man, and no 
set of men, rightly govern, unless they are preferred by the public 
to others. It is of no consequence that a people should formally 
select a president or a king. They continually act upon the prin¬ 
ciple without this. A people who are satisfied with their governor, 
make, day by day, the choice of which we speak. They prefer 
him to all others; they choose to be served by him rather than by 
any other; and he, therefore, is virtually though not formally 
selected by the public. But, when we speak of the right of a par¬ 
ticular person or family to govern a people, we speak, as of all 
other rights, in conditional language. The right consists in the 
preference which is given to him; and exists no longer than that 
preference exists. If any governor were fully conscious that the 
community preferred another man or another kind of government, 
he ought to regard himself in the light of an usurper if he never¬ 
theless continues to retain his power. Not that every government 
ought to dissolve itself, or every governor to abdicate his office, 
because there is a general but temporary clamour against it. This 
is one thing,—the steady deliberate judgment of the people is an¬ 
other.—Is it too much to hope that the time may come when 
governments will so habitually refer to the purposes of govern¬ 
ment, and be regulated by them, that they will not even wish to 
hold the reins longer than the people desire it; and that nothing 
more will be needed for a quiet alteration, than that the public 
judgment should be quietly expressed 1 

Political revolutions are not often favourable to the accurate 
illustration of political truth; because, such is the moral condition 
of mankind, that they have seldom acted in conformity with it. 
Revolutions have commonly been the effect of the triumph of 
a party or of the successes of physical power. Yet, if the illus¬ 
tration of these principles has not been accurate, the general posi¬ 
tion of the right of the people to select their own rulers has often 
been illustrated. In our own country, when James II. left the 
throne, the people filled it with another person, whose real title 
consisted in the choice of the people. James continued to talk of 
his rights to the crown; but if William was preferred by the pub¬ 
lic, James was, what his son was afterwards called, a Pretender. 
The nonjurors appear to have acted upon erroneous principles,— 


Chap. 1 . 


A CONCILIATING SYSTEM, &c. 


311 


(except indeed on the score of former oaths to James; which how¬ 
ever, ought never to have been taken.)—If we acquit them of 
motives of party, they will appear to have entertained some no¬ 
tions of the rights of governors independently of the wishes of the 
people. At William’s death the nation preferred James’s daugh¬ 
ter to his son; thus again elevating their judgments above all 
considerations of what the Pretender called his rights. Anne had 
then a right to the throne and her brother had not. At the death 
of Anne, or rather in contemplation of her death, the public had 
again to select their governor; and they chose, not the immediate 
representative of the old family, but the Elector of Hanover: — 
and it is in virtue of the same choice, tacitly expressed at the pre¬ 
sent hour, that the heir of the Elector now fills the throne. 

[The habitual consciousness on the part of a legislature, that its 
authority is possessed in order to make it an efficient guardian and 
promoter of the general welfare and the general satisfaction, would 
induce a more mild and conciliating system of internal policy than 
that which frequently obtains. Whether it has arisen from habit 
resulting from the violent and imperious character of international 
policy,—or from that tendency to unkindness and overbearing 
which the consciousness of power induces,—it cannot be doubted 
that measures of governments are frequently adopted and con¬ 
ducted with such a high hand as impairs the satisfaction of the 
governed, and diminishes, by example, that considerate attention 
to the claims of others, upon which much of the harmony, and 
therefore the happiness of society, consists. Governments are 
too much afraid of conciliation. They too habitually suppose that 
mildness or concession indicates want of courage or want of 
power,—that it invites unreasonable demands, and encourages 
encroachment and violence on the part of the governed.—Man is 
not so intractable a being* or so insensible of the influence of 
candour and justice. In private life, he does not the most easily 
guide the conduct of his neighbours, who assumes an imperious, 
but he who assumes a temperate and mild demeanour. The best 
mode of governing, and the most powerful mode too, is to recom¬ 
mend state measures to the judgment and the affections of a people. 
If this had been sufficiently done in periods of tranquility, some of 
those conflicts which have arisen between governments and the 
people had doubtless been prevented; and governments had been 
spared the mortification of conceding that to violence which they 
refused to concede in periods of quiet. We should not wait for 


312 FOX.—POWER TO BE EXERCISED ONLY Essay 3. 

times of agitation to do that which Fox advised even at such a 
time, because at other periods it may be done with greater advan¬ 
tage, and with a better grace. “ It may be asked,” said Fox, 
“ what I would propose to do, in times of agitation like the pre¬ 
sent 1 I will answer openly :—If there is a tendency in the dis¬ 
senters to discontent, what should I do ? I would instantly repeal 
the corporation and test acts, and take from them thereby all cause 
of complaint. If there were any persons tinctured with a repub¬ 
lican spirit, I would endeavour to amend the representation of the 
Commons, and to prove that the House of Commons, though not 
chosen by all, should have no other interest than to prove itself 
the representative of all. If men were dissatisfied on account of 
disabilities or exemptions, &c., I would repeal the penal statutes 
which are a disgrace to our law books. If there were other com¬ 
plaints of grievance, I would redress them where they were really 
proved: but above all, I would constantly , cheerfully, patiently 
listen : I would make it known that if any man felt, or thought he 
felt, a grievance, he might come freely to the bar of this house and 
bring his proofs. And it should be made manifest to all the world, 
that where they did exist they should be redressed; where not, it 
should be made manifest.” 1 

We need not consider the particular examples and measures 
which the statesman instanced. The temper and spirit is the 
thing. A government should do that of which every person 
would see the propriety in a private man:—if misconduct was 
charged upon him, show that the charge was unfounded; or, 
being substantiated, amend his conduct.] 


II. 

“ POLITICAL POWER IS RIGHTLY EXERCISED ONLY WHEN IT 
SUBSERVES THE WELFARE OF THE COMMUNITY.” 

This proposition is consequent of the truth of the last. The 
community, which has the right to withhold power, delegates it, of 
course, for its own advantage. If in any case its advantage is not 
consulted, then the object for which it was delegated is frustrated, 
—or in simple words, the measure which does not promote the 
public welfare is not right. It matters nothing whether the com- 
1 Fell’s Memoirs of the Public Life of C. J. Fox. 



Chap. 1. FOR THE WELFARE OF THE COMMUNITY. 313 

munity have delegated specifically so much power for such and 
such purposes: the power, being possessed, entails the obligation. 
Whether a sovereign derives absolute authority by inheritance, 
or whether a president is entrusted with limited authority for a 
year, the principles of their duty are the same. The obligation 
to employ it only for the public good, is just as real and just as 
great in one case as in the other. The Russian and the Turk 
have the same right to require that the power of their rulers shall 
be so employed, as the Englishman or American. They may not 
be able to assert this right, but that does not affect its exist¬ 
ence nor the ruler’s duty,—nor his responsibility to that Almighty 
Being before whom he must give an account of his stewardship. 
These reasonings, if they needed confirmation, derive it from the 
fact that the Deity imperatively requires us, according to our 
opportunities, to do good to man. 

But, how ready soever men are to admit the truth of this pro¬ 
position, as a proposition, it is very commonly disregarded in 
practice ; and a vast variety of motives and objects direct the 
conduct of governments which have no connection with the public 
weal. Some pretensions of consulting the public weal are, in¬ 
deed, usual. It is not to be supposed that when public officers 
are pursuing their own schemes and interests, they will tell the 
people that they disregard theirs. When we look over the his¬ 
tory of a Christian nation, it is found that a large proportion of 
these measures which are most prominent in it, had little ten¬ 
dency to subserve, and did not subserve the public good. In 
practice it is very often forgotten for what purpose governments 
are instituted. If a man were to look over twenty treaties, he 
would probably find that a half of them had very little to do with 
the welfare of the respective communities. He might find a great 
deal about Charles’s rights, and Frederick’s honour, and Louis’s 
possessions, and Francis’s interests, as if the proper subjects of 
international arrangements were those^ which respected rulers 
rather than communities. If a man looks over the state papers 
which inform him of the origin of a war, he will probably find that 
they agitate questions about Most Christian and Most Catholic 
Kings, and High Mightinesses, and Imperial Majesties,—ques¬ 
tions, however, in which Frenchmen, and Spaniards, and Dutch, 
and Austrians, are very little interested or concerned, or at any 
rate much less interested than they are in avoiding the quarrel 


314 


INTERFERENCE OF GOVERNMENTS, &c. Essay 3. 


Governments commonly trouble themselves unnecessarily and 
too much with the politics of other nations. A prince should turn 
his back towards other countries and his face towards his own,— 
just as the proper place of a landholder is upon his own estates and 
not upon his neighbour’s. If governments were wise, it would ere 
long be found, that a great portion of the endless and wearisome 
succession of treaties, and remonstrances, and embassies, and alli¬ 
ances, and memorials, and subsidies, might be dispensed with, 
with so little inconvenience and so much benefit, that the world 
would wonder to think to what futile ends they had been busying 
and how needlessly they had been injuring themselves. 

No doubt, the immoral and irrational system of international 
politics which generally obtains, makes the path of one govern¬ 
ment more difficult than it would otherwise be; and yet it is 
probable that the most efficacious way of inducing another go¬ 
vernment to attend to its proper business, would be to attend to our 
own. It is not sufficiently considered, nor indeed is it sufficiently 
known , how powerful is the influence of uprightness and candour 
in conciliating the good opinion and the good offices of other men. 
Overreaching and chicanery in one person, induce overreaching 
and chicanery in another. Men distrust those whom they per¬ 
ceive to be unworthy of confidence. Real integrity is not with¬ 
out its voucher in the hearts of others; and they who maintain it 
are treated with confidence, because it is seen that, confidence can 
be safely reposed. Besides, he who busies himself with the po¬ 
litics of foreign countries, like the busy bodies in a petty commu¬ 
nity, does not fail to offend. In the last century, our own country 
was so much of a busy body, and had involved itself in such a 
multitude of treaties and alliances, that it was found, I believe, 
quite impossible to fulfil one without, by that very act, violating 
another. This, of course, would offend. In private life, that 
man passes through the world with the least annoyance and the 
greatest satisfaction, who confines his attention to its proper bu¬ 
siness, that is, generally, to his own : and who can tell why the 
experience of nations should in this case be different from that of 
private men 1 In a rectified state of international affairs, half a 
dozen princes on a continent would have little more occasion to 
meddle with one another than half a dozen neighbours in a street. 

But indeed, Communities frequently contribute to their own 
injury. If governors are ambitious, or resentful, or proud, so, 


Chap. i. 


PRESENT EXPEDIENTS. 


315 


often, are the people;—and the public good has often been sacri¬ 
ficed by the public, with astonishing preposterousness, to jealousy 
or vexation. Some merchants are angry at the loss of a branch 
of trade; they urge the government to interfere ; memorials and 
remonstrances follow to the state of whom they complain;—and 
so, by that process of exasperation which is quite natural when 
people think that high language and a high attitude is politic, the 
nations soon begin to fight. The merchants applaud the spirit of 
their rulers, while in one year they lose more by the war than 
they would have lost by the want of the trade for twenty; and 
before peace returns, the nation has lost more than it would 
have lost by the continuance of the evil for twenty centuries. 
Peace at length arrives, and the government begins to devise 
means of repairing the mischiefs of the war. Both government 
and people reflect very complacently on the wisdom of their mea¬ 
sures,—forgetting that their conduct is only that of a man who 
wontonly fractures his own leg with a club, and then boasts to 
his neighbours how dexterously he limps to a surgeon. 

Present expedients for present occasions, rather than a wide 
embracing and far-seeing policy, is the great characteristic of 
European politics. We are hucksters who cannot resist the 
temptation of a present sixpence, rather than merchants who wait 
for their profits for the return of a fleet. Si quseris monumen- 
tuin, circumspice. Look at the condition of either of the con¬ 
tinental nations, and consider what it might have been if even a 
short line of princes had attended to their proper business,—had 
directed their solicitude to the improvement of the moral and social 
and political condition of the people. Who has been more suc¬ 
cessful in this huckster policy than France 1 and what is France, 
and what are the French people at the present hour 1 —Why, as 
it respects real welfare they are not merely surpassed, they are 
left at an immeasurable distance, by a people who sprung up but 
as yesterday,—by a people whose land, within the memory of our 
grandfathers, was almost a wilderness,—and which actually was 
a wilderness, long since France boasted of her greatness. Such 
results have a cause. It is not possible that systems of policy 
can be good, of which the effects are so bad. I speak not of par¬ 
ticular measures or of individual acts of ill policy,—these are not 
likely to be the result of the condition of man,—but of the whole 
international system,—a system of irritability, and haughtiness, 


316 THE MORAL LAW ALIKE BINDING Essay 3. 

and temporary expedients; a system of most unphilosophical 
principles, and from which Christianity is practically almost ex¬ 
cluded. Here is the evidence of fact before us. We know what 
a sickening detail the history of Europe is. And it is obvious to 
remark, that the system which has given rise to such a history 
must be vicious and mistaken in its fundamental principles. The 
same class of history will continue to after generations unless 
these principles are changed,—unless philosophy and Christianity 
obtain a greater influence in the practice of government; unless, 
in a word, governments are content to do their proper business, 
and to leave that which is not their business, undone. 

When such principles are acted upon we may reasonably ex¬ 
pect a rapid advancement in the whole condition of the world. 
Domestic measures which are now postponed to the more stirring 
occupations of legislators, will be found to be of incomparably 
greater importance than they. A wise code of criminal law will 
be found to be of more consequence and interest than the acqui¬ 
sition of a million square miles of territory;—A judicious encou¬ 
ragement of general education will be of more value than all the 
“ glory ” that has been acquired from the days of Alfred till now. 
Of moral legislation, however, it will be our after business to 
speak; Meanwhile the lover of mankind has some reason for gra- 
tulation in perceiving indications that governments will hereafter 
direct their attention more to the objects for which they are in¬ 
vested with power. The statesman who promotes this improve¬ 
ment will be wdiat many statesmen have been called —a great 
man. That government only is great which promotes the pros¬ 
perity of its own people; and that people only are prosperous, 
who are w'ise and happy. 


III. 

u POLITICAL POWER IS RIGHTLY EXERCISED ONLY WHEN IT 
SUBSERVES THE WELFARE OF THE COMMUNITY BY MEANS 
WHICH THE MORAL LAW PERMITS.” 

It has been said by a Christian writer, that “ the science of po¬ 
litics is but a particular application of that of morals;”—and it 
has been said by a writer who rejected Christianity, that “ the 



Chap. 1. 


ON NATIONS AND INDIVIDUALS. 


317 


morality that ought to govern the conduct of individuals and of 
nations, is, in all cases, the same.” If there be truth in the prin¬ 
ciples which are advanced in the first of these Essays, these pro¬ 
positions are indisputably true. It is the chief purpose of the 
present work to enforce the supremacy of the Moral Law; and to 
this supremacy there is no exception in the case of nations. In 
the conduct of nations this supremacy is practically denied: al¬ 
though, perhaps, few of those who make it subservient to other 
purposes, would deny it in terms. With their lips they honour 
the doctrine, but in their works they deny it. Such procedures 
must be expected to produce much self-contradiction, much vacil¬ 
lation between truth and the wish to disregard it, much vagueness 
of notions respecting political rectitude, and much casuistry to 
educe something like a justification of what cannot be justified. 
Let the reader observe an illustration : a moral philosopher says, 
■—“The Christian principles of love, and forbearance, and kind¬ 
ness, strictly as they are to be observed between man and man, 
are to be observed with precisely the same strictness between na¬ 
tion and nation .” This is an unqualified assertion of the truth. 
But the writer thinks it would carry him too far, and so he makes 
exceptions. “ In reducing to practice the Christian principles of 
forbearance, &c., it will not be always feasible, nor always safe, to 
proceed to the same extent as in acting towards an individual.” 
Let the reader exercise his skill in casuistry by showing the dif¬ 
ference between conforming to laws with “precise strictness” 
and conforming to them in their “ full extent.”—Thus far Christ¬ 
ianity and Expediency are proposed as our joint governors.— 
We must observe the Moral Law,—but still we must regulate 
our observance of it by considerations of what is feasible and safe. 
Presently afterwards, however, Christianity is quite dethroned; 
and we are to observe its laws only “ so far as national ability 
and national security will permit.” 1 —So that our rule of political 
conduct stands at length thus: obey Christianity with precise 
strictness—when it suits your interests . 

The reasoning by which such doctrines are supported is such 
as it might be expected to be. We are told of the “ caution re¬ 
quisite in affairs of such magnitude,—the great uncertainty of the 
future conduct of the other nation,”—and of “ patriotism.”—So 
that because the affairs are of great magnitude the laws of the 
1 Gisborne’s Moral Philosophy. 


318 


NATIONS NOT EXEMPTED FROM THE Essay 3. 


Deity are not to be observed! It is all very well, it seems, to 
observe them in little matters, but for our more important con¬ 
cerns we want rules commensurate with their dignity,—we cannot 
then be bound by the laws of God! The next reason is, that we 
cannot foresee “the future conduct” of a nation.—Neither can we 
that of an individual. Besides this, inability to foresee incul¬ 
cates the very lesson that we ought to observe the laws of Him 
who can foresee. It is a strange thing to urge the limitation of 
our powers of judgment as a reason for substituting it for the 
judgment of Him whose powers are perfect. Then “ patriotism” 
is a reason:—and we are to be patriotic to our country at the 
expense of treason to our religion ! 

The principles upon which these reasonings are founded lead 
to their legitimate results : “ In war and negociation,” says Adam 
Smith, “ the law's of justice are very seldom observed. Truth 
and fair dealing are almost totally disregarded. Treaties are vio¬ 
lated, and the violation, if some advantage is gained by it, sheds 
scarce any dishonour upon the violator. The ambassador who 
dupes the minister of a foreign nation, is admired and applauded. 
The just man, the man who in all private transactions would be 
the most beloved and the most esteemed, in those public trans¬ 
actions is regarded as a fool and an idiot, who does not understand 
his business ; and he incurs always the contempt, and sometimes 
even the detestation, of his fellow citizens.” 1 

Now, against all such principles,—against all endeavours to 
defend the rejection of the Moral Law in political affairs, we would 
with all emphasis protest. The reader sees that it is absurd:— 
can he need to be convinced that it is unchristian ] Christianity is 
of paramount authority, or another authority is superior. He who 
holds another authority as superior rejects Christianity;—and the 
fair and candid step would be avowedly to reject it. He should 
say, in distinct terms—Christianity throws some light on poli¬ 
tical principles; but its laws are to be held subservient to our 
interests. This were far more satisfactory than the trimming 
system, the perpetual vacillation of obedience to two masters, and 
the perpetual endeavour to do that which never can be done—serve 
both. 

Jesus Christ legislated for man, —not for individuals only, not 
for families only, not for Christian churches only, but for man in 

1 Theory of Moral Sentiments. 


Chap. 1. OBLIGATIONS OF THE MORAL LAW—FOX. 319 


all his relationships and in all his circumstances. He legislated 
for states . In his moral law we discover no indications that states 
were exempted from its application, or that any rule which bound 
social did not bind political communities. If any exemption were 
designed the onus probendi rests upon those who assert it: unless 
they can show that the Christian precepts are not intended to 
apply to nations, the conclusion must be admitted that they are. 
But in reality, to except nations from the obligations is impos¬ 
sible ; for nations are composed of individuals, and if no indivi¬ 
dual may reject the Christian morality a nation may not. Un¬ 
less, indeed, it can be shown that when you are an agent for 
others you may do what neither yourself nor any of them might 
do separately,—a proposition of which certainly the proof must 
be required to be very clear and strong. 

But the truth is that those who justify a suspension of Christ¬ 
ian morality in political affairs, are often unwilling to reason dis¬ 
tinctly and candidly upon the subject. They satisfy themselves 
with a jest, or a sneer, or a shrug; being unwilling either to con¬ 
temn morality in politics, or to practise it: and it is to little pur¬ 
pose to offer arguments to him who does not need conviction, but 
virtue. 

Expediency is the rock upon which we split,—upon which, 
strange as it appears, not only our principles but our interests 
suffer continual shipwreck. It has been upon Expediency that 
European politics have so long been founded, with such lament¬ 
ably inexpedient effects. We consult our interests so anxiously 
that we ruin them. But we consult them blindly : we do not 
know our interests, nor shall we ever know them whilst we con¬ 
tinue to imagine that we know them better than He who legis¬ 
lated for the world. Here is the perpetual folly as well as the 
perpetual crime. Esteeming ourselves wise, we have, empha¬ 
tically, been fools,—of which no other evidence is necessary than 
the present political condition of the Christian world. If ever it 
was true of any human being, that by his deviations from recti¬ 
tude he had provided scourges for himself, it is true at this hour 
of every nation in Europe. 

Let us attend to this declaration of a man who, whatever may 
have been the value of his general politics, was certainly a great 
statesman here : “ I am one of those who firmly believe, as much 
indeed as a man can believe any thing, that the greatest resource 



320 


“ THE HOLY ALLIANCE.” 


Essay 3. 


a nation can possess, the surest principle of power, is strict atten¬ 
tion to the principles of justice. I firmly believe that the com¬ 
mon proverb of honesty being the best policy is as applicable to 
nations as to individuals .”—“ In all interference with foreign na¬ 
tions justice is the best foundation of policy, and moderation is 
the surest pledge of peace.”—“ If therefore we have been defi¬ 
cient in justice towards other states, we have been deficient in 
wisdom.” 1 

Here, then, is the great truth for which we would contend,—to 
be unjust is to be unwise. And since justice is not imposed upon 
nations more really than other branches of the Moral Law, the uni¬ 
versal maxim is equally true ,—to deviate from purity of rectitude 
is impolitic as well as wrong. When will this truth be learnt 
and be acted upon 1 When shall we cast away the contrivances of 
a low and unworthy policy, and dare the venture of the conse¬ 
quences of virtue ] When shall we, in political affairs, exercise 
a little of that confidence in the knowledge and protection of God, 
which we are ready to admire in individual life 1—Not that it is 
to be assumed as certain that such fidelity would cost nothing. 
Christianity makes no such promise. But whatever it might cost 
it would be worth the purchase. And neither reason nor experi¬ 
ence allows the doubt that a faithful adherence to the Moral Law 
would more effectually serve national interests, than they have 
ever yet been served by the utmost sagacity whilst violating 
that law. 

The contrivances of expediency have become so habitual to 
measures of state, that it may probably be thought the dreamings 
of a visionary to suppose it possible that they should be substi¬ 
tuted by purity of rectitude. And yet I believe it will eventually 
be done,—not perhaps by the resolution of a few cabinets,—it is 
not from them that reformation is to be expected,—but by the 
gradual advance of sound principles upon the 'minds of men;— 
principles which will assume more and more their rightful in¬ 
fluence in the world, until at length the low contrivances of a 
fluctuating and immoral policy will be substituted by firm, and 
consistent, and invariable integrity. 

The convention of what is called the Holy Alliance, was an ex¬ 
traordinary event; and little as the contracting parties may have 
acted in conformity with it, and little as they or their people were 
i Fell’s Memoirs of the Public Life of C. J. Fox. 


Chap. 1. 


DURABLE FAME. 


321 


prepared for such a change of principles, it is a subject of satis¬ 
faction that such a state paper exits. It contains a testimony at 
least to virtue and to rectitude; and even if we should suppose it 
to be utterly hypocritical, the testimony is just as real. Hypo¬ 
crisy commonly affects a character which it ought to maintain; 
and the act of hypocrisy is homage to the character. In this 
view, I say, it is subject of some satisfaction that a document 
exists which declares that these powerful princes have come to a 
“ fixed resolution, both in the administration of their respective 
states, and in their political relations with every other govern¬ 
ment, to take for their sole guide the precepts of the Christian 
religion,—the precepts of Justice, Christian Charity, and Peace 
and which declares that these principles, “ far from being appli¬ 
cable only to private concerns, must have an immediate influence 
on the councils of princes, as being the only means of consoli¬ 
dating human institutions, and remedying their imperfections.” 

The time, it may be hoped, will arrive when such a declaration 
will be the congenial and natural result of principles that are actu¬ 
ally governing the Christian world. Meantime, let the philosopher 
and the statesman keep that period in their view, and endeavour 
to accelerate its approach. He who does this, will secure a fame 
for himself that will increase and still increase as the virtue of 
man holds its onward course, while multitudes of the great both 
of past ages and of the present, will become beacons to warn, 
rather than examples to stimulate us. 


Y 



CHAPTER II. 


CIVIL LIBERTY. 

Of 'personal liberty we say nothing, because its full possession 
is incompatible with the existence of society. Alt government 
supposes the relinquishment of a portion of personal liberty. 

Civil Liberty may however be fully enjoyed. It is enjoyed, 
where the principles of political truth and rectitude are applied in 
practice, because there the people are deprived of that portion only 
of liberty which it would be pernicious to themselves to possess. 
If political power is possessed by consent of the community ; if it is 
exercised only for their good ; and if this welfare is consulted by 
Christian means, the people are free. No man can define the 
particular enjoyments or exemptions which constitute civil liberty, 
because they are contingent upon the circumstances of the respec¬ 
tive nations. A degree of restraint may be necessary for the 
general welfare of one community, which would be wholly un¬ 
necessary in another. Yet the first would have no reason to com¬ 
plain of their want of civil liberty. The complaint, if any be 
made, should be of the evils which make the restraint necessary. 
The single question is, whether any given degree of restraint is 
necessary or not. If it is, though the restraint may be painful, 
the civil liberty of the community may be said to be complete. 
It is useless to say that it is less complete than that of another 
nation ; for complete civil liberty is a relative and not a positive 
enjoyment. Were it otherwise, no people enjoy, or are likely 
for ages to enjoy, full civil liberty ; because none enjoy so much 
that they could not in a more virtuous state of mankind, enjoy 
more. " It is not the rigour, but the inexpediency of laws and 
acts of authority, which makes them tyrannical.” 1 

Civil liberty (so far as its present enjoyment goes) does not 
necessarily depend upon forms of government. All communities 
1 Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil, p. 3, b. 6, c. 5. 





Chap. 2. 


LOSS OF LIBERTY.—WAR. 


323 


enjoy it who are properly governed. It may be enjoyed under 
an absolute monarch; as we know it may not be enjoyed under 
a republic. Actual, existing, liberty, depends upon the actual, 
existing, administration. 

One great cause of diminutions of civil liberty is War : and if 
no other motive induced a people jealously to scrutinize the 
grounds of a war, this might be sufficient. The increased loss of 
personal freedom to a military man is manifest;—and it is con¬ 
siderable to other men. The man who now pays twenty pounds 
a year in taxes, would probably have paid but two if there had 
been no war during the past century. If he now gets a hundred 
and fifty pounds a year by his exertions, he is obliged to labour 
six weeks out of the fifty-two, to pay the taxes which war has 
entailed. That is to say, he is compelled to work two hours 
every day longer than he himself wishes, or than is needful for 
his support. This is a material deduction from personal liberty ; 
and a man would feel it as such, if the coercion were directly ap¬ 
plied,—if an officer came to his house every afternoon at four 
o’clock when he had finished his business, and obliged him under 
penalty of a distraint to work till six. It is some loss of liberty 
again to a man to be unable to open as many windows in his 
house as he pleases,—or to be forbidden to acknowledge the re¬ 
ceipt of a debt without going to the next town for a stamp,—or 
to be obliged to ride in an uneasy carriage unless he will pay for 
springs. It were to no purpose to say he may pay for windows 
and springs if He will, and if he can.—A slave may, by the same 
reasoning be shown to be free; because if he will and if he can, 
he may purchase his freedom. There is a loss of liberty in being 
obliged to submit to the alternative; and we should feel it as a 
loss if such things were not habitual, and if we had not receded 
so considerably from the liberty of nature. A housewife on the 
Ohio would think it a strange invasion of her liberty, if she were 
told that henceforth the police would be sent to her house to seize 
her goods if she made any more soap to wash her clothes. 

Now, indeed, that war has created a large public debt, it is 
necessary to the general good that its interest should be paid: 
and in this view a man’s civil liberty is not encroached upon 
though his personal liberty is diminished. The public welfare is 
consulted by the diminution. I may deplore the cause without 
complaining of the law. It may upon emergency be for the public 



324 


USELESS LAWS TO BE REPEALED. Essay 3. 


good to suspend the Habeas Corpus Act. I should lament that 
such a state of things existed, but I should not complain that civil 
liberty was invaded. The lesson which such considerations teach, 
is, jealous watchfulness against wars for the future. 

There are many other acts of governments by which civil liberty 
is needlessly curtailed,—among which may be reckoned the number 
of laws. Every law implies restriction. To be destitute of laws 
is to be absolutely free: to multiply laws is to multiply restric¬ 
tions, or which is the same thing, to diminish liberty. A great 
number of penal statutes lately existed in this country by which 
the reasonable proceedings of a prosecutor were cramped, and 
impeded and thwarted. A statesman to whom England is much 
indebted, has supplied their place by one which is more rational 
and more simple; and prosecutors now find that they are so much 
more able to consult their own understandings in their proceed¬ 
ings, that it may, without extravagance, be said that our civil 
liberty is increased. 

“ A law being found to produce no sensible good effects, is a 
sufficient reason for repealing it.” 1 It is not therefore sufficient to 
ask in reply, what harm does the law occasion I for you must prove 
that it does good: because all laws which do no good, do harm. 
They encroach upon or restrain the liberty of the community, 
without that reason which only can make the deduction of any 
portion of liberty right—the public good. If this rule were 
sufficiently attended to, perhaps more than a few of the laws of 
England would quickly be repealed. 

1 Paley: Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3, b. 6, c. 5. 




CHAPTER III. 


POLITICAL LIBERTY. 

This is, in strictness, a branch of civil liberty. Political liberty 
implies the existence of such political institutions as secure , with 
the greatest practicable certainty, the future possession of free¬ 
dom,—the existence of which institutions is one of the requisites, 
in a general sense, of Civil liberty; because it is as necessary to 
proper government that securities for freedom should be framed, 
as that present freedom should be permitted. 

The possession of political liberty is of great importance. A 
Russian may enjoy as great a share of personal freedom as an 
Englishman; that is, he may find as few restrictions upon the 
exercise of his own will; but he has no security for the continue 
ance of this. For aught that he knows, he may be arbitrarily 
thrown into prison to-morrow : and therefore, though he may live 
and die without molestation, he is politically enslaved.—When it 
is considered how much human happiness depends upon the secu¬ 
rity of enjoying happiness in future , such institutions as those of 
Russia are great grievances; and Englishmen, though they may 
regret the curtailment of some items of civil liberty, have much 
comparative reason to think themselves politically free. 

The possession of political liberty is unquestionably a right of 
a community. They may with perfect reason, require it even of 
governments which actually govern well. It is not enough for a 
government to say, None but beneficial laws and acts of authority 
are adopted. It must, if it would fulfil the duties of a govern¬ 
ment, accumulate, to the utmost, securities for beneficial measures 
hereafter. In this view, it may be feared that no government in 
Europe fulfils all its duty to the people. 

And here considerations are suggested respecting the represen¬ 
tation of a people,—a point which, if some political writers were 
to be listened to, was a sine qua non of political liberty. “ To 
talk of an abstract right of equal representation is absurd. It is 
to arrogate a right to one form of government, whereas Provi¬ 
dence has accommodated the different forms of government to the 



326 


SATISFACTION OF THE COMMUNITY. Essay 3. 


different states of society in which they subsist.” 1 If an inha¬ 
bitant of Birmingham should come and tell me that he and his 
neighbours were debarred of political liberty because they sent no 
representatives to parliament, I should say that the justness of 
his complaint was problematical. It does not follow because a 
man is not represented, that he is not politically free. The ques¬ 
tion is, whether as good securities for liberty exist, without per¬ 
mitting him to vote, as with it. If it can be shown that the 
present legislative government affords as good a security for the 
future freedom of the people, as any other that might be devised, 
the inhabitant of Birmingham enjoys, at present, political liberty. 
It is a very common mistake amongst writers, to assume some 
particular privilege or institution as a test of this liberty,—as 
something without which it cannot be enjoyed—and yet I sup¬ 
pose there is no one of their institutions or privileges, under 
which it would not be possible to enslave a people. Simple 
republicanism, universal suffrage, and frequent elections, 'might 
afford no better security for civil liberty than absolute mo¬ 
narchy. In fine, political liberty is not a matter that admits of 
certain conclusions from theoretical reasoning: it is a question 
of facts: a question to be decided, like questions of philosophy, by 
reasoning founded upon experience. If the inhabitant of Bir¬ 
mingham can show, from relevant experience, good ground to 
conclude that greater security for liberty would be derived from 
extending the representation, he has reason to complain of an 
undue privation of political liberty if it is not extended. 

But then it is always incumbent upon the legislature to prove 
the probable superiority of the existing institutions, when any 
considerable portion of the people desire an alteration. That 
desire constitutes a claim to investigation; and to an alteration 
too, unless the existing institutions appear to be superior to those 
which are desired. It is not enough to show that they are as 
good ,—for though in other respects the two plans were equally 
balanced, the present are not so good as the others, if they give 
less satisfaction to the community. To be satisfied, is one great 
ingredient in the welfare of a people: and in whatever degree a 
people are not satisfied, in the same degree civil government does not 
perfectly effect its proper ends. To deny satisfaction to a people 
without showing a reason, is to withhold from them the due por¬ 
tion of civil liberty. 

1 William Pitt: Gifford’s Life, vol. 3. 



CHAPTER IV. 


RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 

The magistrate may advert to subjects connected with reli¬ 
gion, so far as the public good requires and as Christianity 
permits,—or, upon these, as upon other subjects, he may endea¬ 
vour to promote the welfare of the people by Christian means. 
What the public welfare does require, and what means for pro¬ 
moting it are Christian, are separate considerations. 

Upon which grounds, those advocates of religious liberty ap¬ 
pear to assert too much, who assert, as a fundamental principle, 
that a government never has, nor can have, any just concern with 
religious opinions. Unless these persons can show that no ad¬ 
vertence to them is allowed by Christianity, and that none can 
contribute to the public good,—circumstances may arise in which 
an advertence would be right. No one perhaps will deny that a 
government may lawfully provide for the education of the people, 
and endeavour to diffuse just notions and principles, moral and 
religious, into the public mind. A government, therefore, may 
endeavour to discountenance unsound notions and principles. It 
may as reasonably discourage what is wrong, as cherish what is 
right. 

But by what means 1 By influencing opinions, not by punish¬ 
ing persons who hold them. When a man publishes a book or 
delivers a lecture for the purpose of enlightening the public 
mind, he does well. A government may take kindred measures 
for the same purpose,—and it does well. But this is all. If our 
author or lecturer, finding his opinions were not accepted, should 
proceed to injure those who rejected them, he would act not only 
irrationally but immorally. If a government, finding its measures 
do not influence or alter the views of the people, injures those 
who reject its sentiments, it acts immorally too. A man’s opinions 
are not alterable at his own will; and it is not right to injure a 





328 


CIVIL DISABILITIES. 


Essay 3. 


man for doing that which he cannot avoid. Besides, in religious 
matters especially, it is the Christian duty of a man, first, to seek 
truth, and next, to adhere to those opinions which truth, as he 
believes, teaches.—And so again it is not right to injure a man 
for doing that which it is duty to do. When, therefore, it is 
affirmed, at the head of this chapter, that the magistrate may 
advert to subjects connected with religion, nothing more is to be 
understood than that he may endeavour to diffuse just sentiments 
and to expose the contrary. To do more than this, although he 
may think his measures may promote the public welfare, would 
be to endeavour to promote it “ by means which the Moral Law 
forbids.’ ’ 

To inflict civil disabilities is “ to do more than this,”—it is 
“ to injure a man for doing that which he cannot avoid,” and 
“ that which it is his duty to do.” Here, indeed, a sophism has 
been resorted to in order to show that disabilities are not injuries. 
It is said of the dissenters of this country, that no penalty is in¬ 
flicted upon them by excluding them from offices,—that the state 
confers certain offices upon certain conditions, with which con¬ 
ditions a dissenter does not comply. And it is said that this is 
no more a penalty or a hardship than, when the law defines what 
pecuniary qualifications capacitate a man for a seat in parliament, 
it inflicts a penalty upon those who do not possess them. I an¬ 
swer, Both are penalties and hardships,—and that the argument 
only attempts to justify one ill practice by the existence of an¬ 
other. It will be said that such regulations are necessary to the 
public good.—Bring the proof. Here is a certain restraint: “ the 
proof of the advantage of a restraint,” says Dr. Paley, “lies upon 
the legislature.” Unless, therefore, you can show,—what to me 
is extremely problematical,—that the public is benefited by a 
law that excludes a poor man from the legislature,—the argument 
wholly fails. Consider for what purpose men unite in society,— 
“in order,” says Grotius, “ to enjoy common rights and advan¬ 
tages,”—of which rights and advantages, eligibility to a represen¬ 
tative body is one. Those principles of political rectitude which 
determine that a law which needlessly restrains natural liberty is 
wrong, determine that a law which needlessly restrains the en¬ 
joyment of the privileges of society, is wrong also. It is therefore 
not true that a dissenter suffers no hardship or penalty on account 
of his opinions. The only difference between disabilities and 


Chap. 4. INTERFERENCE OF THE MAGISTRATE, &c. 329 


ordinary penalties is this, that one inflicts evil and the other with¬ 
holds good; and both are, to all intents and purposes, penalties. 

But even if the legislator thought he could show that the public 
were benefited by this penalty, upon conscientious dissidents, 
it would not be sufficient,—for the penalty itself is wrong,—it is 
not Christian; and it is vain to argue that an unchristian act 
can be made lawful by prospects of advantage. Here, as every 
where else, we must maintain the supremacy of the Moral Law. 

All these reasonings proceed upon the supposition that a man 
does not, in consequence of his opinions disturb the peace of so¬ 
ciety by any species of violence. If he does, he is doubtless to 
be restrained. It may not be more necessary for the magistrate 
to inquire what are a man’s opinions of religion, than for a rider 
to inquire what are the cogitations.of his horse. So long as my 
horse carries me well, it matters nothing to me whether he be 
thinking of safe paces, or of meadows and corn chests. So long 
as the welfare of the public is secured, it matters nothing to the 
magistrate what notion of Christianity a citizen accepts. But if 
my horse, in his anxiety to get into a meadow, leaps over a 
hedge, and impedes me in my journey, it is needful that I employ 
the whip and bridle: and if the citizen, in his zeal for opinions, 
violates the general good, it is needful that he should be punished 
or restrained. And even then, he is not restrained for his opi¬ 
nions but for his conduct; just as I do not apply the whip to my 
horse because he loves a meadow, but because he goes out of 
the road. 

And even in the case of conduct, it is needful to discriminate, 
accurately, what is a proper subject of animadversion and what is 
not. I perceive no truth in the ingenious argument, “ that a man 
may entertain opinions however pernicious, but he may not be 
allowed to disseminate them; as a man may keep poison in his 
house, but may not be allowed to give it to others as wholesome 
medicine.” To support this argument you must have recourse 
to a petitio principii. How do you know that an opinion is per¬ 
nicious 1 By reasoning and examination, if at all; and that is 
the very end which the dissemination of an opinion attains. If 
the truth or falsehood of an opinion were demonstrable to the 
senses, as the mischief of poison is, there would be some justness 
in the argument; but it is not: except, indeed, that there may be 
opinions so monstrous, that they immediately manifest their un- 


330 PENNSYLVANIA.—BURKE.—TOLERATION. Essay 3. 

soundness by their effects on the conduct; and if they do this, 
these effects, and not the dissemination of the opinion, are the 
proper subject of animadversion. The doctrine, that a man ought 
not to be punished for disseminating whatever opinions he pleases, 
upon whatever subject, will receive some illustration in a future 
chapter. Meantime, the reader will, I hope, be prepared to admit, 
at least, that the religious opinions which obtain amongst Christ¬ 
ian churches, are not such as to warrant the magistrate in visiting 
those who disseminate them, with any kind of penalty.—What 
the magistrate may punish, and what an individual ought to do, 
are very different considerations : and though there is reason to 
think that no man should be punished by human laws for dis¬ 
seminating vicious notions, it is to be believed that those who 
consciously do it will be held far other than innocent at the bar 
of God. 

All reference to creeds in framing laws for a general society is 
wrong. And it is somewhat humiliating that, in the present age, 
and in our country, it is necessary to establish this proposition by 
formal proof. It is humiliating, because it shows us how slow is 
the progress of sound principles upon the human mind, even when 
they are not only recommended by reason but enforced by expe¬ 
rience. It is now nearly a century and a half since one of our 
own colonies adopted a system of religious liberty, which far sur¬ 
passed that of the parent state at the present hour. And this 
system was successful, not negatively, in that it produced no evil, 
but positively, in that it produced much good. One hundred and 
fifty years is a long time for a nation to be learning a short and 
plain lesson. In Pennsylvania, in addition to a complete tole¬ 
ration of “ Jews, Turks, Catholics, and people of all persuasions in 
religion,” 1 there was no disability or test exacted of any professor 
of the Christian faith. “All persons,” says Burke, “who pro¬ 
fess to believe in one God are freely tolerated. Those who be¬ 
lieve in Jesus Christ, of whatever denomination, are not excluded 
from employments and posts.” 2 The wisdom or justice of exclu¬ 
ding those who were not Christians from employments and posts 
may be doubted. Penn, however, did much; and far outstripped 
in enlightened institutions, the general example of the world. If 
he had lived in the present day, it is not improbable that a mind 

1 Clarkson’s Life of Penn. 

2 Account of the European Settlements in America. 




Chap. 4. AMERICA.—REFERENCE TO CREEDS. 


331 


like his would have seen no better reason for excluding those who 
disbelieved Christianity, than those who believed it imperfectly 
or by parts. The consequences, we say, were happy. Burke 
says again of Penn, “ He made the most perfect freedom, both 
religious and civil, the basis of his establishment; and this has 
done more towards the settling of the province, and towards the 
settling of it in a strong and permanent manner, than the wisest 
regulations could have done on any other plan.” 1 —“ By the 
favourable terms,” says Morse, “ which Mr. Penn offered to 
settlers, and an unlimited toleration of all religious denominations, 
the population of the province was extremely rapid.” 2 And yet 
England is, at this present hour, doubting and disputing whether 
tests are right! 

Nor is example wanted at the present day—“ In America, the 
question is not, What is his creed 1 but, What is his conduct 1 
Jews have all the privileges of Christians—No religious test is 
required to qualify for public office; except, in some cases, a 
mere verbal assent to the truth of the Christian religion.—While 
I was in New York,” adds Duncan, tx the sheriff of the city was 
a Jew.” 3 —It is vain to make any objection to the argument 
which these facts urge, unless we can show that the effect is not 
good. And where is the man who will even affect to do this 1 But 
if it should be said that what is wise and expedient with such 
national institutions as those of America, would be unwise and in¬ 
expedient with such institutions as those of England or Spain, it 
will become a'most grave inquiry, whether the fault does not lie 
with the institutions that are not adapted to religious liberty:— 
for religious liberty is assuredly adapted to man. 

Observe what absurdities this sacrifice of universal rectitude 
to particular institutions occasions. There may be ten nations 
on a continent, each of which selects a different creed for its pre¬ 
ference, and excludes all others. The first excludes all but Catholics, 
—the second all but Episcopalians,—the third all but Unitarians,— 
the fourth all but the Greek Church ; and so on with the rest. If it 
be right that Unitarians should be intrusted with power on one side 
of a river, can it be right that they shall not be intrusted with it on 

1 Account of the European Settlements in America. 

2 American Geography. See also Anderson’s Deduction of the Origin of 
Commerce. 

3 Duncan’s Travels in America. 



332 RELIGIOUS LIBERTY INCOMPATIBLE, &C. Essay 3. 


the other ] Or, if such an absurdity be really conducive to the 
support of the incongruous institutions of the several states, is 
it not an evidence that those institutions need to be amended] 
And are not the principles of perfect religious liberty, neverthe¬ 
less, sound and true 1 

Englishmen have not to complain of a want of Toleration. But 
toleration is a word which ought scarcely to be heard out of a 
Christian’s mouth. I tolerate the religion of my brother! I might 
as well say I tolerate the continuance of his head upon his shoul¬ 
ders. I have no more right to hold his creed at my disposal, or 
his person in consequence of his creed, than his head. The idea 
of toleration is a relic of the effects of the papal usurpation. That 
usurpation did not tolerate : and Protestants thought it was a 
great thing for them to do wdiat the papacy had thus refused. 
And so it was. It was a great thing for them. Very imper¬ 
fectly, however, they did it; and it was a great thing for Penn, 
who was brought up in a land of intolerant protestants, to declare 
universal toleration for all within his borders. But—(and we 
may reverently say, Thanks be to God!)—we live in happier 
times. We have advanced from intolerance to toleration; and 
now it is time to advance from toleration to Religious Liberty: 
to that religious liberty which excludes all reference to creeds 
from the civil institutions of a people. 


The reader will perhaps have observed, that Religious Liberty 
and Religious Establishments are incompatible things. An esta¬ 
blishment presupposes incomplete religious liberty. If an Es¬ 
tablishment be right, Religious Liberty is not; and if Religious 
Liberty be right, an Establishment is not. Differently consti¬ 
tuted religious establishments may no doubt, impose greater or 
less restraint upon liberty ; but every idea of an establishment— 
of a church preferred by the state—imposes some restraint. It 
is the same with Tests. A test, of some kind, is necessary to a 
church thus preferred by the state; for how else shall it be known 
who is a member of that church and who is not? Religious 
Liberty is incompatible w r ith Religious Tests; for which reason 
again, all arguments by which this liberty is shown to be right 
are so many proofs that religious tests are wrong. These con- 



Chap. 4. “ THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.” 333 

siderations the reader will be pleased to bear in mind, when he 
considers the question of Religious Establishments. 

Tests are snares for the conscience. If their terms are so loose 
that any man can take them with a safe conscience, they are not 
tests. If their terms are definite, they make many hypocrites. 
Men are induced to assent, or subscribe, or perform, (whatever 
the requisitions of the test may be,) against their consciences, in 
order to obtain the advantages which are contingent upon it. An 
attempt was once made in England to introduce an unexception¬ 
able test; by which the party was to declare “ that the books of 
the Old and New Testament contained, in his opinion, a revela¬ 
tion from God.” But whom did this exclude? Perhaps Deists, 
Mahometans, Pagans, Jews. But, as a snare, the operation was 
serious; for, simple as the test appears, it was liable to great 
uncertainty of meaning. Did it mean that all the books con¬ 
tained a revelation ? Then some think that all the books are not 
authentic. Did it mean that there was a revelation in some of 
the books of the Bible? Then Jews, Mahometans, Pagans, and 
some deists, might for aught that I know, conscientiously take it. 
No unexceptionable test is possible. There are, to be sure, gra¬ 
dations of impropriety; and in England we have not always 
resorted to the least objectionable. It was well observed by Charles 
James Fox, that <f the idea of making a religious rite the quali¬ 
fication for holding a civil employment is more than absurd, and 
deserves to be considered as a profanation of a sacred institution.” 


A few, and only a few, sentences, will be allowed to the writer 
upon the great, the very great question, of extending religious 
liberty to the Catholics of these kingdoms. I call it a very great 
question not because of the difficulty of deciding it, if sound prin¬ 
ciples are applied, but because of the magnitude of the interests 
that are involved, and of the consequences which may follow if 
those principles are not applied.—-The reader will easily perceive, 
from the preceding contents of this chapter, the writer’s convic¬ 
tion, that full Religious Liberty ought to be extended to the Ca¬ 
tholics, because it ought to be extended to all men. If a Catholic 
acts in opposition to the public welfare,—diminish or take away 
his freedom. If he only thinks amiss,—let him enjoy his free¬ 
dom undiminished. 



334 


“ THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.” 


Essay 3. 


To this I know of but one objection that is worth noticing 
here,—that they are harmless only because they have not the 
power of doing mischief, and they wait only for the power to 
begin to do it. But they say, “ this is not the case,—we have 
no such intentions.” Now, in all reason, you must believe them 
or show that they are unworthy of belief. If you believe them, 
Religious Liberty follows of course. Can you then show that 
they are unworthy of belief] Where is your evidence 1 

You say, their allegiance is divided between the king and a 
foreign power. They reply, “ It is not:” “We hold ourselves 
bound in conscience, to obey the civil government in all things of 
a temporal and civil nature, notwithstanding any dispensation to 
the contrary from the Pope or Church of Rome.” 

You say, their declarations and oaths do not bind them, because 
they hold that they can be dispensed from the obligation of all 
oaths by the pope.—They reply, “ We do not:” “We hold that 
the obligation of an oath is most sacred ; that no power whatso¬ 
ever can dispense with any oath, by which a Catholic has con¬ 
firmed his duty of allegiance to his sovereign, or any obligation 
of duty to a third person.” 

You say, they hold that faith is not to be kept with heretics.— 
They reply, “We do not” “ British Catholics,” say they, “ have 
solemnly sworn that they reject and detest that unchristian and 
impious principle, that faith is not to be kept with heretics or in¬ 
fidels.” These declarations are taken from a “ Declaration of the 
Catholic Bishops, the Vicars Apostolic, their coadjutors in Great 
Britain,” 1825. They are signed by the Catholic Bishops of 
Great Britain, and are approved in an “ address” signed by eight 
Catholic Peers and a large number of other persons of rank and 
character. 

Now I ask of those who contend for the Catholic disabilities, 
What proof do you bring that these men are trying to deceive 
you 1 I can anticipate no answer, because I have heard none. 
Will you, then, content yourselves by saying, We will not believe 
them! This would be at least the candid course, and the world 
might then perceive that our conduct was regulated not by reason 
but by prejudice or the consciousness of power. “ It is unwar¬ 
rantable to infer, a priori , and contrary to the professions and 
declarations of the persons holding such opinions, that their opi¬ 
nions would induce acts injurious to the common weal.” 1 

1 C. J. Fox : Gifford’s Life of Pitt: vol. 2. 




Chap. 4. 


“ THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.” 


335 


But if nothing can be said to show that the Catholic declara¬ 
tions do not bind them, something can be said to show that they 
do. If declarations be indeed so little binding upon their con¬ 
sciences, how comes it to pass that they do not make those 
declarations which would remove their disabilities, get a dispensa¬ 
tion from the pope, and so enjoy both the privileges and an easy 
conscience 1 Why if their oaths and declarations did not bind 
them, they would get rid of their disabilities to-morrow ! Nothing 
is wanting but a few hypocritical declarations, and Catholic Eman¬ 
cipation is effected. Why do they not make these declarations 1 
Because their words bind them. And yet, (so gross is the ab¬ 
surdity,) although it is their conscientiousness which keeps them 
out of office, we say they are to be kept out because they are not 
conscientious! 

I forbear further inquiry: but I could not, with satisfaction, 
avoid applying what I conceive to be the sound Principles of Po¬ 
litical Rectitude to this great question; and let no man allow his 
prejudices or his fears to prevent him from applying them to this, 
as to every other political subject. Justice and Truth are not to 
be sacrificed to our weaknesses and apprehensions; and I believe, 
that if the people and legislature of this country will adhere to 
justice and truth with regard to our Catholic brethren, they will 
find, ere long, that they have only been delaying the welfare of 
the Empire. 



CHAPTER V, 


CIVIL OBEDIENCE. 

Submission to Government is involved in the very idea of the 
institution. None can govern, if none submit: and hence is 
derived the duty of submission, so far as it is independent of 
Christianity. Government being necessary to the good of society, 
submission is necessary also, and therefore it is right. 

This duty is enforced with great distinctness by Christianity, 
—“ Be subject to principalities and powers.”—“ Obey magis¬ 
trates.”-—Submit to every ordinance of man.”—The great 
question, therefore, is, whether the duty be absolute and un¬ 
conditional; and if not, what are its limits, and how are they 
to be ascertained ? 

The law of nature proposes few motives to obedience except 
those which are dictated by expediency. The object of instituting 
government being the good of the governed, any means of attaining 
that object is, in the view of natural reason, right. So that, if in 
any case a government does not effect its proper objects, it may not 
only be exchanged, but exchanged by any means which will tend 
on the whole to the public good. Resistance,—arms,—civil war, 
—every act is, in the view of natural reason, lawful if it is useful. 
But although good government is the right of the people, it is, 
nevertheless, not sufficient to release a subject from the obligation 
of obedience, that a government adopts some measures which he 
thinks are not conducive to the general good. A wise pagan 
would not limit his obedience to those measures in which a go¬ 
vernment acted expediently; because it is often better for the 
community that some acts of mis-government should be borne, 
than that the general system of obedience should be violated. It 
is, as a general rule, more necessary to the welfare of a people 
that governments should be regularly obeyed, than that each of 
their measures should be good and right. In practice, therefore, 





OBLIGATIONS TO OBEDIENCE. 


337 


Chap. 5. 


even considerations of Utility are sufficient, generally, to oblige 
us to submit to the Civil power. 

When we turn from the law of nature to Christianity, we find, 
as we are wont, that the moral cord is tightened, and that not 
every means of opposing governments for the public good is per¬ 
mitted to us. The consideration of what modes of opposition 
Christianity allows, and what it forbids, is of great interest and 
importance. 

“ Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there 
is no power but of God: the powers that be, are ordained of God. 
Whosoever, therefore, resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance 
of God. For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the 
evil.—He is the minister of God to thee for good,—a revenger, 
to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil. Wherefore ye must 
needs be subject, not only for wrath, but also for conscience’ 
sake.” 1 —Upon this often cited and often canvassed passage, 
three things are to be observed:— 

1. That it asserts the general duty of Civil obedience because 
government is an institution sanctioned by the Deity. 

2. That it asserts this duty under the supposition that the go¬ 
vernor is a minister of God for good. 

3. That it gives but little other information respecting the 
extent of the duty of obedience. 

I. The obligation to obedience is not founded, therefore, simply 
upon expediency, but upon the more satisfactory and certain 
ground,—the -expressed will of God. And here the superiority of 
this motive over that of fear of the magistrate’s power, is mani¬ 
fest. We are to be subject, not only for wrath, but for consci¬ 
ence’ sake,—not only out of fear of man, but out of fidelity to 
God. This motive, where it operates, is likely, as was observed 
in the first Essay, to produce much more consistent and conscien¬ 
tious obedience than that of expediency or fear. 

II. The duty is inculcated under the supposition that the go¬ 
vernor is a minister for good. It is upon this supposition that 
the apostle proceeds: “for rulers are not a terror to good works, 
but to the evil;” which is tantamount to saying, that if they be 
not a terror to evil works but to good, the duty of obedience is 
altered. “ The power that is of Godf says an intelligent and 
Christian writer, “ leaves neither ruler nor subject to the liberty 

1 Rom. xiii. 1 to 5. 


Z 



338 EXTENT OF THE DUTY OF OBEDIENCE. EsSay 3. 

of his own will, but limits both to the will of God; so that the 
magistrate hath no power to command evil to be done because 
he is a magistrate, and the subject hath no liberty to do evil be¬ 
cause a magistrate doth command it.” 1 When, therefore, the 
Christian teacher says, “ Let every soul be subject to the higher 
powers,” he proposes not an absolute but a conditional rule,— 
conditional upon the nature of the actions which the higher powers 
require. The expression, “ There is no power but of God,” does 
not invalidate this conclusion, because the Apostles themselves 
did not yield unconditional obedience to the powers that were. 
Similar observations apply to the parallel passage in 1st Peter:— 
“ Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man for the Lord’s sake; 
whether it be to the king as supreme, or unto governors as unto 
them that are sent by him, the punishment of evil-doers and for 
the praise of them that do well .” The supposition of the just 
exercise of power is still kept in view. 

III. The precepts give little other information than this re¬ 
specting the extent of the duty of obedience. “ Whosoever resist- 
eth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God,” is, like the direc¬ 
tion to “be subject,” a conditional proposition. What precise 
meaning was here attached to the word “resisteth” cannot, per¬ 
haps, be known; but there is reason to think that the meaning 
was not designed to be precise,—that the proposition was general. 
“ Magistrates are not to be resisted,”—without defining, or at¬ 
tempting to define, the limits of civil obedience. 

Upon the whole, this often agitated portion of the Christian 
Scriptures does not appear to me to convey much information 
respecting the duties of civil obedience; and although it explicitly 
asserts the general duty of obedience to the magistrate, it does 
not inform us how far that duty extends, nor what are its limits. 
To say this, however, is a very different thing from saying, with 
Dr. Paley, that “As to the extent of our civil rights and obliga¬ 
tions, Christianity hath left us where she found us ; that she hath 
neither altered nor ascertained it; that the New Testament con¬ 
tains not one passage, which, fairly interpreted, affords either 
argument or objection applicable to any conclusions upon the 
subject that are deduced from the law and religion of nature.” 2 
Although the 13th chapter to the Romans may contain no such 

1 Crisp: * To the Eulers and Inhabitants in Holland, &c.” Abt. Ann. 1670. 

2 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 4 . 




Chap. 5. RESISTANCE TO THE CIVIL POWER. 


339 


passage, yet I think it can be shown that the New Testament does. 
Indeed, it would be a strange thing if the Christian Scriptures, 
containing as they do manifold precepts for the regulation of hu¬ 
man conduct, manifold precepts of which the application is very 
wide, not to say universal,—it would, I say, be a strange thing if 
none of these precepts threw any light upon duties of such wide 
embrace as those of citizens in relation to governors. 

The error (assuming that there is an error) in the statement of 
Dr. Paley results, probably, from the supposition, that because no 
passage, specifically directed to civil obedience, contained the 
rules in question, therefore no rules were to be found in the vo¬ 
lume. This is an error of every day. There are numberless 
questions of duty which Christianity decides, yet respecting which, 
specifically, not a word is to be found in the New Testament. 
These questions are decided by general principles, which prin¬ 
ciples are distinctly laid down. These three words, “ Love your 
enemies,” are of greater practical application in the affairs of life, 
than twenty propositions which define exact duties in specific 
eases. It is for these exact definitions that men accustom themr 
selves to seek; and when they are not to be found, conclude that 
Christianity gives no directions upon the subject. 

Thus it has happened with the question of Civil Obedience. 
Now, in considering the general principles of Christianity, I think 
very satisfactory knowledge may be deduced respecting resistance 
to the civil power. Those precepts to forbearance, to gentleness, to 
love, to mildness, which are iterated as the essence of the Christian 
morality, apply, surely, to the question of resistance. Surely 
there may be some degrees and kinds of resistance, which, being 
incompatible with the observance of these principles, Christianity 
distinctly forbids. If indeed the reader has given assent to our 
reasonings respecting self-defence, (especially if he shall give his 
assent to the reasonings on War,) he will readily admit that 
Christianity forbids an armed resistance to the civil power. Let 
me be distinctly understood. It forbids this armed resistance, not 
in as much as it is directed to the civil power, but in as much as 
such violence to any power is incompatible with the purity of the 
Christian character. 

Concluding, then, that specific rules respecting the extent of 
Civil Obedience are not to be found in Scripture, we are brought 
to the position, that we must ascertain this extent by the general 


340 OBEDIENCE MAY BE WITHDRAWN. Essay 3. 

duties which Christianity imposes upon mankind, and by the 
general principles of political Truth. In attempting, upon these 
grounds, to illustrate our civil duties, I am solicitous to remark, 
that the individual Christian who, regarding himself as a journeyer 
to a better country, thinks it best for him not to intermeddle in 
political affairs, may rightly pursue a path of simpler submission 
and acquiescence than that which I believe Christianity allows. 
Whatever may be the peculiar business of individuals, the busi¬ 
ness of man is to act as the Christian citizen ,—not merely to 
prepare himself for another world, but to do such good as he may, 
political as well as social, in the present. And yet, so funda¬ 
mentally, so utterly incongruous with Christian rectitude, is the 
state of many branches of political affairs in the present day, that 
I know not whether he who is solicitous to adhere to this recti¬ 
tude is not both wise and right in standing aloof. This consider¬ 
ation applies, especially, to circumstances in which the limits of 
Civil Obedience are brought into practical illustrations. The 
tumult and violence which ordinarily attend any approach to po¬ 
litical revolutions are such, that the best and proper office of a 
good man may be rather that of a moderator of both parties than 
of a partisan with either.—Nevertheless, it is fit that the obliga¬ 
tions of Civil Obedience should be distinctly understood. 

Referring then to political truth, it is to be remembered that 
governors are established, not for their own advantage, but for the 
people’s. If they so far disregard this object of their establish¬ 
ment, as greatly to sacrifice the public welfare, the people (and 
consequently individuals) may rightly consider whether a change 
of governors is not dictated by utility; and if it is, they may 
rightly endeavour to effect such a change by recommending it to 
the public, and by transferring their obedience to those who, there 
is reason to believe, will better execute the offices for which go¬ 
vernment is instituted. I perceive nothing unchristian in this. 
A man who lived in 1688, and was convinced that it was for the 
general good that William should be placed on the throne instead 
of James, was at liberty to promote, by all Christian means, the 
accession of William, and consequently to withdraw his own, and 
to recommend others to withdraw their obedience, from James. 
The support of the Bill of Exclusion in Charles the second’s reign, 
was nearly allied to a withdrawing of civil obedience. The Christ¬ 
ian of that day who was persuaded that the bill would tend to the 




341 


Chap. 5. RESISTANCE TO THE CIVIL POWER. 

public welfare, was right in supporting it, and he would have been 
equally right in continuing his support if Charles had suddenly 
died, and his brother had suddenly stepped into the throne. If I 
had lived in America fifty years ago, and had thought the dis¬ 
obedience of the colonies wrong, and that the whole empire would 
be injured by their separation from England, I should have thought 
myself at liberty to urge these considerations upon other men, and 
otherwise to exert myself (always within the limits of Christian 
conduct) to support the British cause. I might, indeed, have 
thought that there was so much violence and wickedness on both 
sides, that the Christian could take part with neither ; but this is an 
accidental connection, and in no degree affects the principle itself. 
But, when the colonies were actually separated from Britain, and 
it was manifestly the general will to be independent, I should have 
readily transferred my obedience to the United States, convinced 
that the new government was preferred by the people; that there¬ 
fore it was the rightful government; and, being such, that it was 
my Christian duty to obey it. 

Now the lawful means of discouraging or promoting an altera¬ 
tion of a government, must be determined by the general duties 
of Christian morality. There is, as we have seen, nothing in po¬ 
litical affairs which conveys a privilege to throw off the Christian 
character; and whatever species of opposition or support involves 
a sacrifice or suspension of this character, is, for that reason, 
wrong. Clamorous and vehement debatings and harangues,— 
vituperation and calumny,—acts of bloodshed and violence, or in¬ 
stigations to such acts, are, I think, measures in which the first 
teachers of Christianity would not have participated; measures 
which would have violated their own precepts; and measures, 
therefore, which a Christian is not at liberty to pursue. Objec¬ 
tions to these sentiments will no doubt be at hand: we shall be 
told that such opposition would be ineffectual against the encroach¬ 
ments of power and the armies of tyranny,—that it would be to 
no purpose to reason with a general who had orders to enforce 
obedience; and that the nature of the power to be overcome, dic¬ 
tated the necessity of corresponding power to overcome it. To 
all which it is, in the first place, a sufficient answer, that the ques¬ 
tion is not what evils may ensue from an adherence to Christian¬ 
ity, but what Christianity requires. We renew the oft-repeated 
truth, that Christian rectitude is paramount. When the first 


342 


ENGLAND AND AMERICA. 


Essay 3. 


Christians refused obedience to some of the existing authorities, 

—they did not resist. They exemplified their own precepts,-—to 
prefer the will of God before all; and if this preference subjected 
them to evils,—to bear them without violating other portions of 
His Will in order to ward them off. But if resistance to the civil 
power was thus unlawful when the magistrate commanded actions 
that were morally wrong , much more clearly is it unlawful, when 
the wrongness consists only in political grievances. The incon¬ 
veniences of bad governments cannot constitute a superior reason 
for violence, to that which is constituted by the imposition of laws 
that are contrary to the laws of God. And if any one should in¬ 
sist upon the magnitude of political grievances, the answer is at 
hand,—-these evils cannot cost more to the*community as a state, 
than the other class of evils costs to the individual as a man. If 
fidelity is required in private life, through whatever consequences, 
it is required also in public. The national suffering can never be 
so great as the individual may be. The individual may lose his 
life for his fidelity, but there is no such thing as a national martyr¬ 
dom. Besides, it is by no means certain that Christian opposi¬ 
tion to mis-government would be so ineffectual as is supposed. 
Nothing is so invincible as determinate non-compliance. He that 
resists by force, may be overcome by greater force; but nothing 
can overcome a calm and fixed determination not to obey. Vio¬ 
lence, might , no doubt, slaughter those who practised it, but it were 
an unusual ferocity to destroy such persons in cool malignity. In 
such inquiries we forget how much difficulty we entail upon our¬ 
selves. A regiment which, after endeavouring to the uttermost 
to destroy its enemies, refuses to yield, is in circumstances totally 
dissimilar to that which our reasonings suppose. Such a regi¬ 
ment might be cut to pieces; but it would be I believe, a “ new 
thing under the sun,” to go on slaughtering a people of whom it 
was known not only that they had committed no violence, but 
that they would commit none. 

Refer, again, to America.—The Americans thought that it was 
best for the general welfare that they should be independent; but 
England persisted in imposing a tax. Imagine, then, America to 
have acted upon Christian principles, and to have refused to pay 
it, but without those acts of exasperation and violence which they 
committed. England might have sent a fleet and an army. To 
what purpose 1 Still no one paid the tax. The soldiery perhaps ' 


Chap. 5. INTERFERENCE OF THE MAGISTRATE. 343 

sometimes committed outrages, and they seized goods instead of 
the impost: still the tax could not be collected, except by a sys¬ 
tem of universal distraint.—Does any man, who employs his 
reason, believe that England would have overcome such a people 1 
does he believe that any government or any army would have 
gone on destroying them ] especially does he believe this, if the 
Americans continually reasoned coolly and honourably with the 
other party, and manifested, by the unequivocal language of con¬ 
duct, that they were actuated by reason and by Christian recti¬ 
tude 1 No nation exists which would go on slaughtering such a 
people. It is not in human nature to do such things; and I am 
persuaded not only that American independence would have been 
secured, but that very far fewer of the Americans would have 
been destroyed,—that very much less of devastation and misery 
would have been occasioned, if they had acted upon these princi¬ 
ples instead of upon the vulgar system of exasperation and violence. 
In a word, they would have attained the same advantage, with 
more virtue, and at less cost.—With respect to those voluble 
reasoners who tell us of meanness of spirit , of pusillanimous sub¬ 
mission, of base crouching before tyranny, and the like, it may be 
observed that they do not know what mental greatness is. Cou¬ 
rage is not indicated most unequivocally by wearing swords or by 
wielding them. Many who have courage enough to take up arms 
against a bad government, have not courage enough to resist it 
by the unbending firmness of the mind,—to maintain a tranquil 
fidelity to virtue in opposition to power; or to endure, with sere¬ 
nity, the consequences which may follow. 

The Reformation prospered more by the resolute non-compli¬ 
ance of its supporters, than if all of them had provided themselves 
with swords and pistols. The most severely persecuted body of 
Christians which this country has, in later ages, seen, was a body 
who never raised the arm of resistance. They wore out that iron 
rod of oppression which the attrition of violence might have whetted 
into a weapon that would have cut them off from the earth;—and 
they now reap the fair fruit of their principles in the enjoyment of 
privileges from which others are still debarred. 

There is one class of cases in which obedience is to be refused 
to the civil power without any view to an alteration of existing 
institutions,—that is, when the magistrate commands that which 



344 


INTERFERENCE OF THE MAGISTRATE. Essay 3. 


it would be immoral to obey. What is wrong for the Christian, 
is wrong for the subject. “ All human authority ceases at the 
point where obedience becomes criminal.” Of this point of crimi¬ 
nality every man must judge, ultimately, for himself; for the opi¬ 
nions of another ought not to make him obey when he thinks it is 
criminal, nor to refuse obedience when he thinks it is lawful. 
Some even appear to think that the nature of actions is altered by 
the command of the state,—that what would be unlawful without 
its command, is lawful tvith it. This notion is founded upon indis¬ 
tinct view 7 s of the extent of civil authority ; for this authority can 
never be so great as that of the Deity; and it is the Deity w ho 
requires us not to do evil. The protestant v r ould not think him¬ 
self obliged to obey, if the state should require him to acknowledge 
the authority of the Pope. And w T hy 1 Because he thinks it wmuld 
be inconsistent with the Divine will: and this, precisely, is the 
reason why he should refuse obedience in other cases. He cannot 
rationally make distinctions and say, “ I ought to refuse obedience 
in acknowdedging the Pope, but I ought to obey in becoming the 
agent of injustice or oppression.”—If I had been a Frenchman, 
and had been ordered, probably at the instigation of some courte¬ 
zan, to immure a man whom I knew to be innocent in the Bastile, 
I should have refused ;—for it never can be right to be the active 
agent of such iniquity. 

Under an enlightened and lenient government like our own, the 
cases are not numerous in which the Christian is exempted from 
the obligation to obedience. When, a century or two ago, perse¬ 
cuting acts were passed against some Christian communities, the 
members of these communities were not merely at liberty, they 
were required, to disobey them. One act imposed a fine of twenty 
pounds a month for absenting one’s self from a prescribed form of 
v orship. He who thought that form less acceptable to the Su¬ 
preme Being than another, ought to absent himself notwithstand¬ 
ing the law. So, w 7 hen in the present day, a Christian thinks the 
profession of arms or the payment of preachers w 7 hom he disap¬ 
proves, is wrong, he ought, notwithstanding any law r s, to decline 
to pay the money or to bear the arms. 

Illegal commands do not appear to carry any obligation to obe¬ 
dience. Thus, when the Apostles had been “ beaten openly and 
uncondemned, being Romans,” they did not regard the directions 


Chap. 5. OATHS OF ALLEGIANCE TO GOVERNORS. 345 


of the magistracy to leave the prison, but asserted their right to 
legal justice by making the magistrates “ come themselves and 
fetch them out.” When Charles I. made his demands of supplies 
upon his own illegal authority, I should have thought myself at 
liberty to refuse to pay them. This were not a disobedience to 
government. Government was broken. One of its constituent 
parts refused to impose the tax, and one imposed it. I might, in¬ 
deed, have held myself in doubt whether Charles constituted the 
government or not. If the people had thought it best to choose 
him alone for their ruler, he constituted the government, and his 
demand would have been legal,—for a law is but the voice of 
that governing power whom the people prefer. As it was, the 
people did not choose such a government:—the demand was 
illegal, and might therefore be refused. 


Promises or Oaths of Allegiance to Governors do not appear 
easily reconcileable with political reason. Promises are made for 
the advantage or security of the imposer; and to make them to 
governors seems an inversion of the order which just principles 
would prescribe. The security should be given by the employed 
party, not by the employer. A community should not be hound 
to obey any given officer whom they employ ; because they may 
find occasion to exchange him for another. Men do not swear 
fidelity to their representatives in a senate.—Promising fidelity 
to the state may appear exempt from these objections, but the pro¬ 
mise is likely to be of little avail: for what is the state 1 or how 
is its will to be discovered but by the voice of the governing 
power 1 To promise fidelity to the state is not very different from 
promising it to a governor. 

If it be said that promises of allegiance may be useful in periods 
of confusion, or when the public mind is divided respecting the 
choice of governors,—such a period is peculiarly unfit for promising 
allegiance to one. The greater the instability of an existing go¬ 
vernment, the greater the unreasonableness of exacting an oath. 
If an oath should maintain a tottering government against the 
public mind it does mischief; and if a government is secure, an 
oath is not needed. 



346 


OATHS OF ALLEGIANCE 


Essay 3. 


The sequestered ministers in the time of Charles II., were 
required to take an oath, “ declaring that they would not at any 
time endeavour an alteration in the government of the church or 
state.” 1 One reason of their ejection was, that they would not de¬ 
clare their assent to every thing in the Book of Common Prayer. 
Why should these persons be required to promise not to endeavour 
an alteration in Church Government, when, probably, some of 
them thought the endeavour formed a part of their Christian duty ] 
Upon similar grounds, it may be doubted whether the Roman 
catholics of our day ought to declare, as they do, that they will not 
endeavour any alteration in the religious establishments of the 
country. To promise this without limitation is surely promising- 
more than a person who disapproves that establishment ought to 
promise. The very essence of peculiar religious systems tends 
to the alteration of all others. He who preaches the Romish creed 
and practice, does practically oppose the Church of England, and 
practically endeavour an alteration in it. And if a man thinks his 
own system the best, he ought , by Christian means, to endeavour 
to extend it. 

And even if these declarations were less objectionable in prin¬ 
ciple, their practical operation is bad. Some invasion or revolu¬ 
tion places a new prince upon the throne,—that very prince, 
perhaps, whom the people’s oath of allegiance was expressly de¬ 
signed to exclude. What are such a people to do] Are they to 
refuse obedience to the ruler whom, perhaps, there are the best 
reasons for obeying ] Or are they to keep their oaths sacred, and 
thus injure the general weal ] Such alternatives ought not to be 
imposed. But the truth is, that allegiance is commonly adjusted 
to a standard very distinct from the meaning of oaths. How many 
revolutions have oaths of allegiance prevented ] In general a peo¬ 
ple will obey the power whom they prefer, whatever oaths may 
have bound them to another. In France, all men were required 
to swear “ that they would be faithful to the Nation, the Law, and 
the King!' A year after these same Frenchmen swore an ever¬ 
lasting abjuration of monarchy ! And now they are living quietly 
under a monarchy again ! After the accession of William III., 
when the clergy were required to take oaths contrary to those 
which they had before taken to James, very few in comparison 

1 Southey’s Book of the Church. 


Chap. 5, 


TO THE KING OF FRANCE, &c. 


347 


refused. The rest “ took them with such reservations and distinc¬ 
tions, as redounded very little to the honour of their integrity.” 1 

Thus it is that these oaths which are objectionable in principle, 
are so nugatory in practice. The mischief is radical. Men ought 
not to be required to engage to maintain, at a future period, a set 
of opinions which, at a future period, they may probably think 
erroneous: nor to maintain allegiance to any set of men whom, 
hereafter, they may perhaps find it. expedient to replace by 
others. 


1 Smollett’s History of England. 


CHAPTER VI. 


FORMS OF GOVERNMENT. 

There is one great cause which prevents the political moralist 
from describing, absolutely, what form of government is preferable 
to all others,—which is, that the superiority of a form depends, 
like the proper degree of civil liberty, upon the existing condition 
of a community. Other doctrine has indeed been held : “ Where- 
ever men are competent to look the first duties of humanity in the 
face, and to provide for their defence against the invasions of hun¬ 
ger and the inclemencies of the sky, there they will, out of all 
doubt, be found equally capable of every other exertion that may 
be necessary to their security and welfare. Present to them a 
constitution which shall put them into a simple and intelligible 
method of directing their own affairs, adjudging their contests 
among themselves, and cherishing in their bosoms a manly sense 
of dignity, equality, and independence, and you need not doubt 
that prosperity and virtue will be the result.” 1 

There is need to doubt and to disbelieve it,—unless it can be 
shown from experience that uncultivated and vicious men require 
nothing more to make them wise and good than to be told the way. 
“ Present to them a constitution.” Who shall present it] Some 
foreign intelligence, manifestly;—and if this foreign intelligence 
is necessary to devise a constitution, it will be necessary to keep 
it in operation and in order. But when this is granted, it is in 
effect granted that an uncultivated and vicious people are not 
“ capable of every exertion that may be necessary to their security 
and welfare.” 

But if certain forms cannot be specified which shall be best for 
the adoption of every state, there are general principles to direct us. 

It is manifest that the form of government, like the administra¬ 
tion of power, should be conformable to the public wish. In a 
1 Godwin’s Enq. Pol. Just. vol. 1. p. 69, 



SOME GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 


349 


Chap . 6. 


certain sense, and in a sense of no trifling import, that form is best 
for a people which the people themselves prefer : and this rule 
applies, even although the form may not be intrinsically the best; 
for public welfare and satisfaction are the objects of government, 
and this satisfaction may sometimes be insured by a form which 
the public prefer, more effectually than by a form, essentially 
better, which they dislike. Besides, a nation is likely to prefer 
that form which accords best with what is called the national ge¬ 
nius ; and thus there may be a real adaptation of a form to a peo¬ 
ple which is yet not abstractedly the best, nor the best for their 
neighbours. But when it is said that that form of government 
ought to be adopted for a people, which they themselves prefer, it 
is not to be forgotten that their preference is often founded upon 
their weaknesses or their ignorance. Men adhere to an established 
form because they think little of a better. Long prescription gives 
to even bad systems an obscure sanctity amongst unthinking men. 
No reasonable man can suppose that the government of Louis the 
Fourteenth was good for the French people, or that that form could 
be good which enabled him to trifle with or to injure the public 
welfare. And yet, when his ambition and tyranny had reduced the 
French to poverty and to wretchedness, they still clung to their 
oppressor, and made wonderful sacrifices to support his power.— 
Now, though it might have been both improper and unjust to give 
a new constitution to the French when they preferred the old, 
yet such examples indicate the sense in which only it is true that 
the form which a people prefer is the best for them;—and they 
indicate, too, most powerfully, the duty of every citizen and of 
every legislator to diffuse just notions of political truth. The na¬ 
ture of a government contributes powerfully no doubt to the form¬ 
ation of this national genius; and thus an imperfect form sometimes 
contributes to its own duration. 

In the present condition of mankind, it is probable that some 
species of monarchy is best for the greater part of the world. 
Republicanism opens more wide the gates of ambition. He who 
knows that the utmost extent of attainable power is, to be the 
servant of a prince, is not likely to be fired by those boundless 
schemes of ambition which may animate the republican leader. 
The virtue of the generality of mankind is not sufficiently power¬ 
ful to prompt them to political moderation without the application 
of an external curb; and thus it happens that the order and sta- 


350 HEREDITARY AND ELECTIVE MONARCHY. Essay 3. 


bility of a government is more efficiently secured by the indispu¬ 
table supremacy of one man. Now, order and stability are 
amongst the first requisites of a good constitution, for the object 
of political institutions cannot be secured without them. 

I accept the word Monarchy in a large sense. It is not neces¬ 
sary to the security of these advantages, even in the existing state 
of human virtue, that the monarch should possess what we call 
kingly power. By monarchy I mean a form of government in 
which one man is invested with power greatly surpassing that of 
every other. The peculiar means by which this power is possessed, 
do not enter necessarily into the account. The individual may 
have the power of a Sultan, or a Czar, or a King, or a President; 
that is, he may possess various degrees of power, and yet the 
essential principle of monarchy and its practical tendencies may 
be the same in all,—the same to repress violence by extent of 
power,—the same to discountenance ambition by the hopelessness 
of gratifying unlimited desire. 

It is usual to insist, as one of the advantages of monarchy, upon 
its secrecy and dispatch: which secrecy and dispatch, it is to be 
observed, would be of comparatively little importance in a more 
advanced state of human virtue. Where diplomatic chicanery 
and hostile exertions are employed, dispatch and secrecy are 
doubtless very subservient to success ; but take away the hostility 
and chicanery,—take away, that is, such wickedness from amongst 
men, and secrecy and dispatch would be of little interest or im¬ 
portance. We love darkness rather than light because our deeds 
are evil. Thus it is that unnumbered usages and institutions find 
advocacy, rather in the immoral condition of mankind, than in 
direct evidences of their excellence. 

“ An hereditary monarchy is universally to be preferred to an 
elective monarchy. The confession of every writer on the subject 
of civil government, the experience of ages, the example of Po¬ 
land and of the Papal dominions, seem to place this amongst the 
few indubitable maxims which the science of politics admits of.” 1 
But, without attempting to decide upon the preferableness of 
hereditary or elective monarchy, it may be questioned whether 
this formidable array of opinion has not been founded upon the 
mischiefs which actually have resulted from electing princes, rather 
than from those which are inseparable from the election. The 
1 Paley: Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 3, b. 6, c. 6. 


Chap. 6. 


A MELANCHOLY TRUTH. 


351 


election of the kings of Poland convulsed that unhappy country 
and sometimes embroiled Europe. The election of popes has 
produced similar effects; but this is no evidence that popes and 
kings cannot be elected by pacific means : cardinals and lords may 
embroil a nation, when other electors would not. 

I call the President of the United States a Monarch. He is 
not called, indeed, an emperor, or a king, or a duke, but he exer¬ 
cises much of regal power. Yet he is elected; and where is the 
mischief? The United States are not convulsed: civil war is not 
waged : foreign princes do not support with armies the pretensions 
of one candidate or another :—and yet he is elected. Who then 
will say that other monarchs might not be elected too ? It will not 
be easy to show that the being invested with greater power than 
the President of America, necessarily precludes the peaceable 
election of a prince. The power of the president differs, I believe, 
less from that of the king of England, than the power of the king 
differs from that of the Russian emperor. No man can define the 
maximum of power which might be conferred without public mis¬ 
chief by the election of the public. Yet I am attempting to elu¬ 
cidate a political truth, and not recommending a practice. It is, 
indeed, possible, that when the genius of a people and the whole 
mass of their political institutions are favourable to an election of 
the supreme magistrate, election would be preferable to hereditary 
succession. But election is not without its disadvantages, especi¬ 
ally if the appointment be for a short time. When there are 
several candidates, and when the inclinations of the community 
are consequently divided, he who actually assumes the reins is the 
sovereign of the choice of only a portion of the people. The rest 
prefer another: which circumstance is not only likely to animate 
the hostilities of faction, but to make the elected party regard one 
portion of the people as his enemies and the other as his friends. 
But he should be the parent of all the people. 

Fox observed with respect to the British Constitution, that 11 the 
safety of the whole depends on the jealousy which each retains 
against the others, not on the patriotism of any one branch of the 
legislature.” 1 This is doubtless true; yet surely it is a melancholy 
truth. It is a melancholy consideration that, in constructing a 
constitution, it is found necessary not to encourage virtue but to 
repress vice, and to contrive mutual curbs upon ambition and 
licentiousness. It is a tacit, but a most emphatical acknowledg- 

1 Speech on the Regency Question. 


352 


CHANGES IN A CONSTITUTION. 


Essay 3. 


ment, how much private inclination triumphs over public virtue, 
and how little legislators are disposed to keep in the right political 
path, unless they are restrained from deviation by walls and spikes. 

Yet it is upon this lamentable acknowledgment that the great 
institutions of free states are frequently founded. A balance of 
interests and passions is contrived, something like the balance of 
power of which we hear so much amongst the nations of Europe, 

-—a balance of which the necessity (if it be necessary,) consists 
in the wickedness, the ambition, and the violence of mankind. If 
nations did not viciously desire to encroach upon one another, this 
balance of power would be forgotten; and in a purer state of 
human virtue, the jealousies of the different branches of a legisla¬ 
ture will not need to be balanced against each other. Until the 
period of this advanced state of human excellence shall arrive, I 
know not how this balance can be dispensed with. It may still 
be needful to oppose power to power, to restrain one class of in¬ 
terests by the counteraction of others, and to procure general quiet 
to the whole by annexing inevitable evils to the encroachments of 
the separate parts. Thus, again, it happens that constitutions 
which are not abstractedly the best, or even good, may be the best 
for a nation now. 

Whatever be the form of a government, one quality appears to 
be essential 'to practical excellence,—that it should be susceptible 
of peaceable change. The science of government, like other sci¬ 
ences, acquires a constant accession of light. The intellectual 
condition of the world is advancing with onward strides. And 
both these considerations intimate that Forms of Government 
should be capable of admitting, without disturbance, those improve¬ 
ments which experience may dictate or the advancing condition 
of a community may require. To reject improvement, is absurd : 
to incapacitate ourselves for adopting it, is absurd also. It surely 
is no unreasonable sacrifice of vanity to admit, that those who 
succeed us may be better judges of what is good for themselves, 
than we can be for them. 

Upon these grounds, no constitution should be regarded as ab¬ 
solutely and sacredly fixed, so that none ought and none have a 
right to alter it. The question of right is easily settled. It is 
inherent in the community, or in the legislature as their agents. 
It would be strange, indeed, if our predecessors five or six centu¬ 
ries ago, had a right to make a constitution for us, which we have 
no right to alter for ourselves. Such checks ought, no doubt, to 


Chap. 6. 


CHANGES. 


353 


be opposed to alterations, that they may not be lightly and crudely 
made. The exercise of political wisdom is to discover that point 
in which sufficient obstacles are opposed to hasty innovation, and 
in which sufficient facility is afforded for real improvement by 
virtuous means. The common disquisitions about the value of 
stability in governments, like those about the sacredness of forms, 
are frequently founded in inaccurate views. What confusion, it 
is exclaimed, and what anarchy and commotions would follow, if 
we were at liberty continually to alter political constitutions! But 
it is forgotten that these calamities result from the circumstance 
that constitutions are not made easily alterable. The interests 
which so many have in keeping up the present state of things, 
make them struggle against an alteration; and it is this struggle 
which induces the calamities, rather than any thing necessarily 
incidental to the alteration itself. Take away these interests, take 
away the motives to these struggles, and improvements may be 
peacefully made. Yet it must be acknowledged that to take away 
these interests is no light task. We must once again refer to 
“the present condition of mankind,” and confess that it may be 
doubted whether any community would possess a staple or an 
efficient government, if no interests bound its officers to exertion. 
To such a government patronage is probably at present indispen¬ 
sable. They who possess patronage and they who are enriched 
or exalted by its exercise, array themselves against those proposi¬ 
tions of change which would diminish their eminence or their 
wealth. And I perceive no means by which the existence of 
these interests and their consequent operation can be avoided, ex¬ 
cept by that elevation of the moral character of our race which 
would bring with it adequate motives to serve the public without 
regard to honours or rewards.—It is however indisputably true, 
that these interests should be as much as is practicable diminished ; 
and in whatever degree this is effected, in the same degree there 
will be a willingness to admit those improvements in the form of 
governments which prudence and wisdom may prescribe. 

“ Let no new practice in politics be introduced and no old one 
anxiously superseded till called for by the public voice.” 1 The 

1 Godwin: Pol. Just. v. 2, p. 593. This doctrine is adverse to that which is 
quoted in the first page of this chapter, where to be able to provide for mere physical 
wants, is stated to be a sufficient qualification for the reception of an entirely new 
system of politics. 

2 A 



354 


POPULAR GOVERNMENT. 


Essay 3 . 


same advice may be given respecting the alteration of forms ; be¬ 
cause alterations which are not so called for, may probably fail of 
a good effect from the want of a congenial temper in the people, 
—and because, as the public wish is the natural measure of sound 
political institutions, even beneficial changes ought not to be forced 
upon them against their own consent. The public mind, however, 
should be enlightened by a government. The legislator who per¬ 
ceives that another form of government is better for his country, 
does not do all his duty if he declares himself willing to concur in 
the alteration when the country desires it: he should create that 
desire by showing its reasonableness.—Unhappily there is a vis 
inertise in governments of which the tendency is opposite to this. 
The interests which prompt men to maintain things as they are, 
and dread of innovation, and sluggishness, and indifference, occa¬ 
sion governments to be amongst the last portion of the community 
to diffuse knowledge respecting political truth. But, when the 
public mind has by any means become enlightened, so that the 
public voice demands an alteration of an existing form, it is one 
of the plainest as well as one of the greatest duties of a govern¬ 
ment to make the alteration : not reluctantly but joyfully, not 
urging the prescription of ages and what is called “ the wisdom of 
our ancestors,” but philosophically yet soberly accommodating 
present institutions to the present state of mankind. 

If, then, it is asked by what general rule Forms of Government 
should be regulated, I would say,—Accommodate the form to the 
opinion of the community ; whatever that community may prefer : 
and, Adopt institutions such as will facilitate the peaceable 
admission of alterations as greater light and knowledge become 
diffused. I would not say to the Sultan, Adopt the constitution of 
England to-morrow; because the sudden transition would probably 
effect, for a long time, more evil than good. I would not say to 
the King of France, Descend from the throne and establish a de¬ 
mocracy ; because I do not think, and experience does not teach 
us to think, that democracy, even if it were theoretically best, is 
best for France at the present day. 

Turning, indeed, to the probable future condition of the world, 
there is reason to think that the popular branches of all govern¬ 
ments will progressively increase in influence, and perhaps even¬ 
tually predominate. This appears to be the natural consequence 
of the increasing power of public opinion. The public judgment 



Chap. 6. THE WORLD IN A STATE OF IMPROVEMENT. 355 


is not only the proper, but almost the necessary eventual measure 
of political institutions; and it appears evident that as that judg¬ 
ment becomes enlightened, it will be exercised, and that, as it is 
exercised, it will prevail. The expression of public opinion upon 
political affairs, and consequently the influence of that opinion, 
partakes obviously of the principles of popular government. If 
public opinion governs, it must govern by some agency by which 
public opinion is expressed; and this expression can in no way so 
naturally be effected, as by some modification til popular authority. 
These considerations, which appear obvious to reasoning, are en¬ 
forced by experience. There is a manifest tendency in the world 
to the increase of the power of the public voice; and the effect is 
seen in the new constitutions which have been established in the 
new world and in the old. Few permanent revolutions are effected 
in which the community do not acquire additional influence in 
governing themselves. 

It will not perhaps be disputed, that if the world were wise and 
good, the best form of government would be that of democracy in 
a very simple state. Nothing would be wanting but to ascertain 
the general wish and to collect the general wisdom. If, therefore, 
the present propriety of other forms of government results from 
the present condition of mankind, there is reason to suppose that 
they may gradually lapse away, as that condition, moral and in¬ 
tellectual, is improved. Whether mankind are thus improving, 
readers may differently decide; and their various decisions will 
lead to various conclusions respecting the future predominance of 
the public voice : the writer of these pages is one who thinks that 
the world is improving, that virtue as well as knowledge is ex¬ 
tending its power; and therefore that, as ages roll along, every 
form of government but that which consists in some organ of the 
general mind, will gradually pass away. It may be hoped, too, 
that this gradual lapse will be occasioned, without solicitude on 
the part of those who then possess privileges or power, to retain 
either to themselves. That same state of virtue and excellence 
which enabled the people almost immediately to govern themselves, 
would prevent others from wishing to retain the reins. Purer 
motives than the love of greatness, of power, or of wealth, would 
influence them in the choice of their political conduct. They 
might have no motive so powerful as the promotion of the general 
weal. 


356 


CHARACTER OF LEGISLATORS. 


Essay 3 . 


As no limit can be assigned to that degree of excellence which 
it may please the Universal Parent eventually to diffuse through 
the world,—so none can be assigned to the simplicity and purity 
of the form in which government shall be carried on. In truth, 
the mind, as it passes onward and still onward in its anticipations 
of purity, stops not until it arrives at that period when all govern¬ 
ment shall cease; when there shall be no wickedness to require 
the repressing arm of power; when terror to the evil doers and 
praise to them that do well, shall no longer be needed, because 
none will do evil though there be no ruler to punish, and all will 
do well from higher and better motives than the praise of man. 


In speaking of political constitutions, it is not sufficiently re¬ 
membered, in how great a degree good government depends upon 
the character and the virtue of those who shall conduct it. There 
is much of truth in the political maxim that “ whatever is best 
administered, is best.” But how shall good administration be 
secured except by the good dispositions of the administrators'? 
The great present concern of mankind, in the selection of their 
legislators, respects their political opinions rather than their moral 
and Christian character. This exclusive reference to political 
biasses is surely unwise—because it leaves the passions and inter¬ 
ests to operate without that control which individual virtue only 
can impart. Thus we are obliged to contrive reins and curbs for 
the public servants, as the charioteer contrives them for an unruly 
horse; too much forgetting, that the best means of securing the 
safety of the vehicle of state, are found in the good dispositions 
of those who move it onward. Political tendencies are important, 
but they are not the most important point: moral tendencies are 
the first and the greatest. The question in England should be, 
less, “ministerialist or oppositionist]” in America, less, “federal¬ 
ist or republican 1” than in both, “ a good or a bad man ]” Rec¬ 
titude of intention is the primary requisite; and whatever prefer¬ 
ence I might give to superiority of talents and to political principles, 
above all, and before all, I should prefer the enlightened Christian; 
knowing that his character is the best pledge of political upright¬ 
ness, and that political uprightness is the best security of good 
government. 





CHAPTER VII. 


POLITICAL INFLUENCE.-PARTY.-MINISTERIAL UNION. 

The system of governing by Influence, appears to be a substi¬ 
tute for the government of force,—an intermediate step between 
awing by the sword, and directing by reason and virtue. When 
the general character of political measures is such that reason and 
virtue do not sufficiently support them to recommend them, on 
their own merits, to the public approbation,—these measures must 
be rejected, or they must be supported by foreign means: and 
when, by the political institutions of a people, force is necessarily 
excluded, nothing remains but to have recourse to some species of 
Influence. There is another ground upon which Influence becomes, 
in a certain sense, necessary,—which is, that there is so much 
imperfection of virtue in the majority of legislators,—they are so 
much guided by interested or ambitious or party motives, that, for 
a measure to be recommended by its own excellence, is sometimes 
not sufficient to procure their concurrence; and thus it happens 
that Influence is resorted to, not merely because public measures 
are deficient in purity, but because there is a deficiency of upright¬ 
ness in public men. 

Whilst political affairs continue to be conducted on their pre¬ 
sent, or nearly on their present, principles, I believe influence is 
necessary to the stability of almost all governments. How else 
shall they be supported 1 They are not sufficiently virtuous to 
bespeak the general and unbiassed support of the nations, and 
without support of some kind, they must fall. That which Hume 
says of England, is perhaps true of all civilized states .—“ The 
influence which the crown acquires from the disposal of places, 
honours, and preferments, may become too forcible, but it cannot 
altogether be abolished without the total destruction of monarchy, 
and even of all regular authority ,’ n —A mournful truth it is! be- 

1 History of England. 




358 


INFLUENCE OF THE CROWN. 


Essay 3 . 


cause it necessarily implies one'of two things—either that the acts 
of “ authority” do not recommend themselves by their own excel¬ 
lencies, or that subjects are too little principled to be influenced by 
such excellencies alone. 

Whilst the generality of subjects continue to be what they are, 
Influence is inseparable from the privilege of appointing to offices. 
With whomsoever that privilege is entrusted, he will possess in¬ 
fluence and consequently power. Multitudes are hoping for the 
gifts which he has to bestow; and they accommodate their conduct 
to his wishes in order to propitiate his favour and to obtain the 
reward. When they have obtained it, they call themselves hound 
in gratitude to continue their deference; and thus the influence 
and the power is continually possessed. Now there is no way of 
destroying this influence but by making men good: for until they 
are good, they will continue to sacrifice their judgments to their 
interests, and support men or measures, not because they are right* 
hut because the support is attended with reward. It matters little 
in morals by whom the power of bestowing offices is possessed, 
unless you can ensure the virtue of the bestower. Politicians 
may talk of taking the power from crowns and vesting it in se¬ 
nates ; but it will be of little avail to change the hands who dis¬ 
tribute, if you cannot change the hearts. If a man should ask 
whether the Influence of the crown in this country might not 
usefully be transferred to the House of Commons, I should answer, 
No. Not merely because it would overthrow (for it certainly 
w T ould overthrow) the monarchy, but because I know not that any 
security would be gained for a better emp^ment of this influence 
than is possessed already. In all but arbitrary governments it 
appears indispensable, that much of the privilege of appointing 
to offices should rest with the executive power. It is the peculiar 
source of its authority. In our own government, the peers pos¬ 
sess power independently of their political character, and the 
commons possess it as representatives of the public mind;—but 
where, without Influence would be the power of the king 1 So it 
is in America. They have two representative bodies, and a third 
estate in the office of their president. But that president could 
not execute the functions of a third estate, nor the office of an 
executive governor, without having the means of influencing the 
people. I do not know whether it was with the determinate ob¬ 
ject of giving to the president a competent share of power, that 



359 


Chap. 7. POLITICAL INFLUENCE—ITS EFFECTS. 

the Americans invested him with the privilege of appointing to 
offices, but it is not to be questioned, that if they had not done it, 
the fabric of their government would speedily have fallen. 

The degree of this influence, which may be required to give 
stability to an executive body, (and therefore to a constitution,) 
will vary with the character of its own policy. The more widely 
that policy deviates from rectitude, the greater will be the demand 
for Influence to induce concurrence in its measures. The degree 
of influence that is actually exerted by a government is therefore 
no despicable criterion of the excellence of its practice. In the 
United States, the degree is less than in England; and it may 
therefore be feared that we are inferior to them in the purity of 
the general administration of the affairs of state. 

But, let it be constantly borne in mind, that when we thus speak 
of th£ “necessity” for influence to support governments, we speak 
only of governments as they are, and of nations as they are. 
There is no necessity for influence to support good government 
over a good people. All influence but that which addresses itself 
to the judgment, is wrong,—wrong in morals, and therefore inde¬ 
fensible upon whatever plea. Influence is in part necessary to a 
government in the same sense as oppression is necessary to a slave 
trader,—not because the captain is a man, but because he has 
taken up the trade in slaves :—not because the government is a 
government, but because it conducts so many political affairs upon 
unchristian principles or in an unchristian manner. The captain 
says, I cannot secure my slaves without oppression :—Let them 
go free. The government says, I cannot conduct my system with¬ 
out Influence :—Make the system good. 

And here arises the observation, that if a government should 
faithfully act upon moral principles, that demand for influence 
which is occasioned by the ill principles of senators or the public, 
would be diminished or done away. The opposition.which govern¬ 
ments are wont to experience,—indefensible as that opposition 
frequently is,—is the result, principally, of the general character 
of political systems. Men, seeing that integrity and purity are 
sacrificed by a government to other considerations, adopt kindred 
means of opposing it. If I reason with a man upon the impro¬ 
priety of his conduct, he will probably listen : if I use violence 
he will probably use violence in return. There is no reason to 
doubt, that if political measures were more uniformly conformable 


360 


POLITICAL INFLUENCE. 


Essay 3 . 


with the sober judgments of a community, respect and affection 
would soon become so general and powerful, that that clamorous 
opposition which it is now attempted to oppose by influence, would 
be silenced by the public voice. Besides, the very fact that In¬ 
fluence is exercised, animates opposition to measures of state. 
The possession of power—that is, in a great degree, of Influence 
—is a tempting bait; and it cannot be doubted that some range 
themselves against an executive body, not so much from objections 
to its measures as from desire of its power. Take away the 
influence, therefore, and you take away one operative cause of 
opposition,—one great obstacle to the free progress of the vessel 
of state. 

“ All influence but that which addresses itself to the judgment, 
is wrong! Of the moral offence which this influence implies, 
many are guilty who oppose governments, as well as those who 
support them, or as governments themselves. It is evidently not 
a whit more virtuous to exert influence in opposing governments 
than in supporting them : nor, indeed, is it so virtuous. To what 
is a man influenced 1 Obviously, to do that which, without the 
influence, he would not do;—that is to say, he is induced to vio¬ 
late his judgment at the request or at the will of other men. It 
can need no argument to show that this is vicious. In truth, it is 
vicious in a very high degree; for to conform our conduct to our 
own sober judgment, is one of the first dictates of the Moral Law: 
and the viciousness is so much the greater, because the express 
purpose for which a man is appointed to legislate, is that the com¬ 
munity may have the benefit of his uninfluenced judgment. Breach 
of trust is added to the sacrifice of individual integrity. A nation 
can gain nothing by the knowledge or experience of a million of 
“ influenced’ ’ legislators. It is curious, that the submission to in¬ 
fluence which men often practise as legislators, they would abhor 
as judges. What should we say of a judge or a juryman who 
accepted a place or a promise as a bribe for an unjust sentence 1 
We should prosecute the juryman and address the parliament for 
a removal of the judge. Is it then of so much less consequence 
in what manner affairs of state are conducted, than the affairs of 
individuals, that that which would be disgraceful in one case, is 
reputable in another 1 No account can be given of this strange 
incongruity of public notions, than that custom has in one case 
blinded our eyes, and in the other has taught us to see. Let the 


PATRONAGE.—INFLUENCE. 


361 


Chap. 7 . 


legislator who would abhor to accept a purse to bribe him to write 
Ignoramus upon a true bill, apply the principle upon which his 
abhorrence is founded to his political conduct. When our moral 
principles are consistent these incongruities will cease. When 
uniform truth takes the place of vulgar practice and opinion, these 
incongruities will become wonderful for their absurdity; and men 
will scarcely believe that their fathers, who could see so clearly, 
saw so ill. The same sort of stigma which now attaches to Lord 
Bacon, will attach to multitudes who pass for honourable persons 
in the present day. 

A man may lawfully, no doubt, take a more active part in poli¬ 
tical measures in compliance with the wishes of another than he 
might otherwise incline to do; but to support the measures of an 
opposition or an administration because they are their measures, 
can never be lawful.—Nor can it ever be lawful to magnify the 
advantages or to expatiate upon the mischiefs of a measure, be¬ 
yond his secret estimate of its demerits or its merits. That legis¬ 
lator is viciously influenced, who says or who does any thing which 
he would think it not proper to say or do if he were an independ¬ 
ent man. 

But it will be said, Since influence is inseparable from the pos¬ 
session of patronage, and since patronage must be vested some¬ 
where, what is to be done ? or how are the evils of Influence to be 
done away 1—a question which, like many other questions in po¬ 
litical morality, is attended with accidental rather than essential 
difficulties. Patronage, in a virtuous state of mankind, would be 
small. There would be none in the church and little in the state. 
Men would take the oversight of the Christian flock, not for filthy 
lucre but of a ready mind. If the ready mind existed, the influ¬ 
ence of patronage would be needless; and, as a needless thing, it 
would be done away. And as to the state, when we consider how 
much of patronage in all nations results from the vicious condition 
of mankind,—especially for military and naval appointments,—it 
will appear that much of this class of patronage is accidental also. 
Take away that wdckedness and violence in which hostile measures 
originate, and fleets and armies would no longer be needed; and 
with their dissolution there would be a prodigious diminution of 
Patronage and of Influence. So, if we continue the inquiry how 
far any given source of influence arising from patronage is neces¬ 
sary to the institution of civil government, we shall find, at last, 


362 


SWIFT—AMERICAN STATES. 


Essay 3 . 


that the necessary portion is very small. We are little accustomed 
to consider how simple a thing civil government is,—nor what an 
unnumbered multiplicity of offices and sources of patronage would 
be cut off, if it existed in its simple and rightful state. 

Supposing this state of rectitude to be attained, and the little 
patronage which remained to be employed rather as an encourage¬ 
ment and reward of public virtue than of subserviency to purposes 
of party, we should have no reason to complain of the existence 
of Influence or of its effects. Swift said of our own country that 
“ while the prerogative of giving all employments continues in the 
crown either immediately or by subordination, it is in the power 
of the prince to make piety and virtue become the fashion of the 
age, if, at the same time, he would make them necessary qualifi¬ 
cations for favour and preferment.” 1 But unhappily, in the exist¬ 
ing character of political affairs in all nations, piety and virtue 
would be very poor recommendations to many of their concerns. 
“ The just man,” as Adam Smith says, “ the man who, in all pri¬ 
vate transactions would be the most beloved and the most esteem¬ 
ed, in those public transactions is regarded as a fool and an idiot, 
who does not understand his business.” 2 It would be as absurd 
to think of making “ piety and virtue, qualifications ” for these 
offices, as to make idiocy a qualification for understanding the 
Principia .-—But the position of Swift, although it is not true whilst 
politics remain to be what they are, contains truth if they were 
what they ought to be. We should have, I say, no reason to 
complain of the existence of influence or of its effects, if it were 
reduced to its proper amount, and exerted in its proper direction. 

It has, I think, been justly observed that one of the principal 
causes of the separation of America from Britain, consisted in the 
little influence which the crown possessed over the American 
States. They had popular assemblies, guided, as such assemblies 
are wont to be, by impatience of control, as well as by zeal for 
independence; and the government possessed no patronage that 
was sufficient to counteract the democratic principles. Occasion 
of opposition was ministered; and the effect was seen. The 
American assemblies, and the corresponding temper of the people, 
were more powerful than the little influence which the crown pos¬ 
sessed. What was to be done ] It was necessary either to re¬ 
linquish the government which could no longer be maintained 
1 Project for the Advancement of Religion. 2 Theo. of Mor. Sent. 


Chap. 7 . 


PARTY. 


363 


without force, or to employ force to retain it. The latter was 
attempted; and, as was to be expected, it failed. I say failure 
was to be expected; because the state of America and of England 
too was such that a government of force could not be supposed 
likely to stand.—Henry VIII. and Elizabeth governed England 
by a species of force. They induced parliamentary compliance 
by intimidation. This intimidation has given place to influence. 
But every man will perceive that it would be impossible to return 
to intimidation again. And it was equally impossible to adopt it 
permanently in the case of America. 

And here it may be observed, in passing, that the separation 
from a mother country of extensive and remote dependencies is 
always to be eventually expected. As the dependency increases 
in population, in intelligence, in wealth, and in the various points 
which enable it to be, and which practically constitute it, a nation 
of itself,—it increases in the tendency to actual separation. This 
separation may be delayed by the peculiar nature of the parent’s 
government, but it can hardly be in the end prevented. It is not 
in the constitution of the human species to remain under the su¬ 
premacy of a foreign power to which they are under no natural 
subordination, after the original causes of the supremacy have 
passed away. Accordingly, there is reason to expect that, in days 
to come, the possessions of the European powers on the other 
quarters of the globe will one after another lapse away. Happy 
will it be for these powers and for the world, if they take counsel 
of the philosophy of human affairs, and of the experience of times 
gone by:—if they are willing tranquilly to yield up a superiority 
of which the reasonableness and the propriety is passed,—a supe¬ 
riority which no efforts can eventually maintain,—and a superiority 
which really tends not to the welfare of the governing, of the 
governed, or of the world. 


PARTY. 

The system of forming Parties in governments, is perfectly 
congruous with the general character of political affairs, but totally 
incongruous with political rectitude. Of this incongruity consi¬ 
derate men are frequently sensible; and accordingly we find that 
defences of party are set up, and set up by men of respectable 



PARTY. 


364 


Essay 3 . 


political character. 1 To defend a custom is to intimate that it is 
assailed. 

What does the very nature of party imply 1 That he who ad¬ 
heres to it speaks and votes not always according to the dictates 
of his own judgment but according to the plans of other men. 
This sacrifice of individual judgment violates one of the first and 
greatest duties of a legislator,—to direct his separate and unbi¬ 
assed judgment to the welfare of the state. There can be no 
proper accumulation of individual experience and knowledge 
amongst those who vote with a party. 

But, indeed, the justifications which are attempted do not refer 
to the abstract rectitude of becoming one of a party, but to the 
unfailing ground of defending political evil,— Expediency. An 
administration, it is said, would not be so likely to stand or an 
opposition to prevail, when each man votes as he thinks rectitude 
requires, as when he ranges himself under a leader.—The differ¬ 
ence is like that which subsists in war between a body of irregu¬ 
lar peasantry and a disciplined army : each man’s arm is as strong 
in the one case as in the other, but each man’s is not equally 
effective. 

Very well. If we are to be told that it is fitting, or honest, 
or decent, that senates and cabinets should act upon the princi¬ 
ples of conflicting armies, parties may easily be defended, but 
surely legislators have other business and other duties. It only 
exhibits the wideness of the general departure from the proper 
modes of conducting government and legislation, that such argu¬ 
ments are employed.—It will be said, that there are no means of 
expelling a bad administration from office but by a systematic op¬ 
position to its measures. If this were true, it would be nothing to 
the question of rectitude, unless it can be shown that the end 
sanctions the means. The question is not whether we shall over¬ 
throw an administration, but whether we shall do what is right. 
But, even with respect to the success of political objects, it is 
not very certain that simple integrity would not be the most effica¬ 
cious. The man who habitually votes on one side, loses, and he 
ought to lose, much of the confidence of other members and of the 
public. At what value ought we to estimate the mental princi¬ 
ples of a man, who foregoes the dictates of his own judgment, and 

1 Pox I believe was one of them, and the present Lord John Russell, in his life 
of Lord Russell, is another. 


Chap. 7 . 


MINISTERIAL UNION. 


365 


acts in opposition to it in order to serve a party 1 What is the 
ground upon which we can place confidence in his integrity ] Facts 
may furnish an answer. The speeches, and statements, and ar¬ 
guments, of such persons are listened to with suspicion; and an 
habitual and large deduction is made from their weight. This is 
inevitable. Hearers and the public cannot tell whether the speaker 
is uttering his own sentiments or those of others : they cannot tell 
whether he believes his own statements or is convinced by his 
own reasoning. So that, even when his cause is good and his 
advocacy just, he loses half his influence because men are afraid 
to rely upon him, and because they still do not know whether some 
illusion is not underneath. The mind is kept so constantly jealous 
of fallacies that it excludes one half of the truth. But when the 
man stands up, of whom it is known that he is sincere , that what 
he says he thinks, and what he asserts he believes; the mind 
opens itself to his statements without apprehension of deceit. No 
deductions are made for the overcolourings of party. Integrity 
carries with it its proper sanction. 

Now if, generally, the measures of a party are good, the indivi¬ 
dual support of upright men would probably more effectually 
recommend them to a senate and to a nation, than the ranked sup¬ 
port of men whose uprightness must always be questionable and 
questioned. If the measures are not good, it matters not how in¬ 
efficiently they are supported. Let those who now range them¬ 
selves under political leaders of whatever party, throw away their 
unworthy shackles ; let them convince the legislature and the pub¬ 
lic that they are absolutely sincere men; and it is probable that a 
vicious policy would not be able to stand before them. For other 
motives to opposition than actual viciousness of measures, I have 
nothing to say. He whose principles allow him to think that 
other motives justify opposition, may very well vote against his 
understanding. The principles and the conduct are congenial 
but both are bad. 


MINISTERIAL UNION. 

The unanimous support or opposition which ordinarily is given 
to a measure by the members of an administration, whatever be 
their private opinions, is a species of party. Like other modes of 
party it results from the impure condition of political affairs ; like 




366 


“ A PARTY MAN.” 


Essay 3 . 


them, it is incongruous with sound political rectitude,—and like 
them, it is defended upon pleas of expediency. The immorality 
of this custom is easily shown ; because it sacrifices private judg¬ 
ment, involves a species of hypocrisy, and defrauds the com¬ 
munity of that uninfluenced judgment respecting public affairs for 
which all public men are appointed. “ Ministers have been known, 
publicly and in unqualified terms, to applaud those very measures 
of a coadjutor which they have freely condemned in private.” 1 Is 
this manly! Is it honest! Is it Christian ? If it is not, it is vicious 
and criminal; and all arguments in its defence—all disquisitions 
about expediency—are sophistical and impertinent. 

“ The necessity for the co-operation” (I use political language) 
results from the general impurity of political systems,—systems 
in which not reason, simply, and principle, direct, but influence 
also, and the spirit of party,—and the love of power. Where in¬ 
fluence is to be employed, union amongst a cabinet is likely to 
urge it in fuller force:—Where the spirit of party is to be em¬ 
ployed, this union is necessary to the object:—Where the love of 
power is the guide, consistency and integrity must be sacrificed 
to its acquisition or retention. But take away this influence,— 
which is bad; and this spirit of party,—which is bad; and this 
love of power,—which is bad; and the minister may speak and act 
like a consistent and a virtuous man. It is with this, as with un¬ 
numbered cases in life, that what is called the necessity for a 
particular vicious course of action is quite adventitious, resulting 
in no degree from the operation of sound principles, but from the 
diffused impurity of human institutions. 

But, indeed, the necessity is not perhaps so obvious as is sup¬ 
posed. The same reasons as those which make the support of a 
partisan comparatively inefficient, operate upon the ministerial 
advocate. He is regarded as a party man; and as the exertions 
nf a party man his arguments are received. People say or think, 
when such arguments are urged, as some men say and think of 
the labours of the clergy,—“ What they say is a matter of course;” 
—“ It is their business; their trade.” No one disputes that these 
feelings have a powerful effect in diminishing the practical effect, 
of the labours of the pulpit; and they have the same effect with 
respect to the labours of a ministry. We listen to a minister 
rather as a pleader than as a judge ; and every one knows what 
1 Gisborne: Duties of Men. 


Chap. 7. THE COUNCIL BOARD AND THE SENATE. 367 


disproportionate regard is paid to these. Why should not minis¬ 
ters he judges? Why should not senates confide in their inte¬ 
grity, believe their statements, give candid attention to their 
reasonings,—as we attend to, and believe, and confide in, what is 
uttered from the bench ? And does any man think so ill of man¬ 
kind as to believe that if an administration acted thus, they would 
not actually possess a greater influence upon the minds of men, 
than they do now ? Even now, when men are so habituated to 
the operation of influence and party, I believe that a minister is 
listened to with much greater confidence and satisfaction when he 
dissents from his colleagues than when he makes common cause. 
We then insensibly reflect, that he is no longer the pleader but 
the judge. The independence of his judgment is unquestioned; 
and we regard it therefore as the judgment of an honest man. 

Uniformity of opinion—or more properly, unity of exertion—is 
not at all necessary to the stability of a cabinet. Several recent 
administrations in our own country have been divided in sentiment 
upon great questions of national policy, and their members have 
opposed one another in parliament. With what ill effects ? Nay, 
has not that very contrariety recommended the reasonings of all, 
as those of sincere integrity ? It is usual with some politicians 
to declaim vehemently against “ unnatural coalitions in cabinets.” 
As to individuals, they, no doubt, may be censurable for political 
tergiversation; but as to cabinets being composed of men of dif¬ 
ferent sentiments,—of sentiments so different as their respective 
judgments may occasion,—it is both allowable and expedient. It 
is just what a wise community would wish, because it affords a 
security for that canvass of public measures which is likely to 
illustrate their character and tendencies. But it is a sorrowful 
and a sickening sight, to contemplate a number of persons frankly 
urging their various and disagreeing opinions at a council board, 
and as soon as some resolution is come to, all proceeding to a 
senate, and one half urging the very arguments against which 
they have just been contending, and by which they are not yet 
convinced. Is freedom of canvass for any reasons useful and right 
at the council board ? Is it not, for the very same reasons, useful 
and right in a senate ? The answer would be, yes, if public mea¬ 
sures were regarded as the measures of the community, and not 
of the administration ; because then the desire and judgment of 
the community would be sought by the public and independent 


368 


RESIGNATION OF OFFICES. 


Essay 3 . 


discussion of the question. Here, then, at last is one great cause 
of the evil,—that a large proportion of public acts are the mea¬ 
sures of administrations ; and being such, administrations unitedly 
support them whatever be the individual opinions of their mem¬ 
bers. These things ought not so to be. I would not indeed say 
that, from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot, there is 
no soundness in the system,—but the evil is mingled deplorably 
with the good. It is sometimes in practice almost forgotten, that 
an administration is an Executive rather than a Legislative body, 
—that their original and natural business is rather to do what the 
legislature and constitution directs, than to direct the legislature 
themselves. I say the original and natural business; for, how 
congenial soever the great influence of administrations in public 
affairs may be with the present tenor of policy, and especially of 
international policy, it is not at all congenial with the original 
purpose and simple and proper objects of civil government,—the 
welfare of the community, as determined by an enlightened survey 
of the national mind. 

Of the want of advertence to these simple and proper objects 
one effect has been that, in this country, administrations have 
frequently given up their offices when the senate has rejected their 
measures. This is an unequivocal indication of the wrong station 
in which cabinets are placed in the legislature,—’because it indicates, 
that if a cabinet cannot carry its point it is supposed to be unfit 
for its office. All this is natural enough upon the present system, 
but it is very unnatural when cabinets are regarded, either in their 
ministerial capacity, as executive officers, or in their legislative 
capacity, as ordinary members of the senate. Executive officers 
are to do what the constitution and the legislature directs :— 
members of a senate are to assist that legislature in directing 
aright: in all which, no necessity is involved for ministers to re¬ 
sign their offices because the measures which they think best are 
not thought best by the majority. That a ministry should some¬ 
times judge amiss is to be expected, because it is to be expected 
of all men: but surely in a sound state of political institutions, 
their fallibility would not be a necessary argument of unfitness for 
their offices, nor would the rejection of some of their opinions be 
a necessary evidence of a loss of the confidence of the public. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 

That the British Constitution is relatively good, is satisfac¬ 
torily indicated by its effects. Without indulging in the ordinary 
gratulations of our “ own country being the first country in the 
world,” it is unquestionably, in almost every respect, amongst the 
first,—amongst the first in liberty, in intellectual and moral excel¬ 
lence, and in whatever dignifies and adorns mankind. A country 
which thus surpasses other nations, and which has, with little inter¬ 
ruption, possessed a nearly uniform constitution for ages, may well 
rest assured that its constitution is good. To say that it is good, 
is however very different from saying that it is theoretically per¬ 
fect, or practically as good as its theory will allow. Under a 
King, Lords, and Commons, we have prospered; but it does not 
therefore follow that under a King, Lords, and Commons, we might 
not have prospered more. 

Whatever may be the future allotment of our country as to the 
form of its government, whether at any period, or at what, the 
progressive advancement of the human species will occasion an 
alteration, we are not at present concerned to inquire. Of one 
thing, indeed, we may be assured, that if it should be the good 
pleasure of Providence that this advancement in excellence shall 
take place, the practical principles of the government and its con¬ 
stitutional form, will be gradually moulded and modified into a 
state of adaptation to the then condition of mankind. 

I. Of the regal part of the British Constitution I would say 
little. The sovereign is, in a great degree identified with an 
administration; and into the principles which would regulate 
ministerial conduct, the preceding chapters have attempted some 
inquiry. 

Yet it may be observed that, supposing ministerial influence to 
be “necessary” to the constitution, there appears considerable 

2 B 



370 


INFLUENCE OF THE CROWN. 


Essay 3 . 


reason to think that its amount may he safely and rightly dimi¬ 
nished. As this influence becomes needless in proportion to the 
actual rectitude of political measures; as there is some reason to 
hope that this rectitude is increasing; and as the public capacity 
to judge soundly of political measures is manifestly increasing 
also; it is probable that some portion of the influence of the crown 
might be given up, without any danger to the constitution or the 
public weal. And, waving all reference to the essential moral 
character of influence, it is to be remembered, that no degree of 
it is defensible, even by the politician, but that which apparently 
subserves the reasonable purposes of government. 

It is recorded that in 1741, in Scotland, “ sixteen peers were 
chosen literally according to the list transmitted from court.” 1 
Such a fact would convince a man, without further inquiry, that 
there must have been something very unsound in the ministerial 
politics of the day; or at any rate, (which is nearly the same 
thing,) something very discordant with the general mind. 

In 1793, and whilst, of course, the Irish Parliament existed, 
a bill was brought into that parliament to repeal some of the 
catholic disabilities. This bill, the “ parliament loudly, indig¬ 
nantly, and resolutely rejected.” A feiv months afterwards, a 
similar bill was introduced under the auspices of the government. 
Pitt had taken counsel of Burke, and wished to grant the catho¬ 
lics relief: and when the viceroy’s secretary accordingly brought 
in a bill, two members only opposed it; and at the second read¬ 
ing, it was opposed but by one vote. Now, whatever may be 
said of the “ necessity” of ministerial influence for the purposes 
of state, nothing can be said in favour of such influence as this. 
Every argument which would show its expediency, would show 
even more powerfully the impurity of the system which could 
require it. 

It is common to hear complaints of ministerial influence in par¬ 
liament .-—■“ That kind of influence which the noble lord alludes 
to,” said Fox in one of his speeches “ I shall ever deem uncon¬ 
stitutional ; for by the influence of the crown, he means the influ¬ 
ence of the crown in parliament.” 2 But, if it is concluded that 
influence is “ necessary,” it seems idle to complain of its exercise 
in the senate. Where should it be exerted with effect 1 Whether it 
be constitutional it is difficult to say, because it is difficult to define 
1 Smollett: Hist. England, v. 3, p. 71. 2 Fell’s Public Life of C. J, Fox. 


HOUSE OF LORDS. 


371 


Chap. 8. 


where constitutional acts end and unconstitutional acts begin. 
But, it may safely be concluded that, in such matters, questions of 
constitutional rectitude are little relevant. Influence you say— 
and in a certain sense you say it truly—is necessary. To what 
purpose then can it be to complain of the exercise of that influence 
in those places in which only or principally it is effectual 1 It 
would be impossible for persons, with our views of political recti¬ 
tude, to execute the office of minister upon any system that 
approached, in its character, to the present;—but were it other¬ 
wise, I would advise a minister openly to avow the exercise of 
influence and to defend it. This were the frank, and I think, the 
rational course. Why should a man affect secrecy or conceal¬ 
ment about an act “ politically necessary.” I would not talk about 
disinterestedness and independence ; but tell the world that influ¬ 
ence was needful, and that I exerted it. Not that such an avowal 
would stop, or ought to stop, the complaints of virtuous men. 
The morality of politics is not so obscure but that thousands will 
always perceive that the exertion of influence and the submission 
to it, is morally vicious. This conflict will continue. Artifice 
and deception are “ necessary” to a swindler, but all honest men 
know and feel that the artifice and deception are wrong. 

II. It appears to have been discovered, or assumed, in most free 
states, that it is expedient that there should be two deliberative 
assemblies, of which one shall, from its constitution, possess less 
of a democratical tendency than the other. Not that, in a purer 
state of society, two such assemblies would be necessary, but 
because, while separate individuals or separate classes of men 
pursue their peculiar interests and are swayed by their peculiar 
prejudices, it is found needful to obstruct one class of interests 
and tendencies by another. Such a purpose is answered by the 
British House of Lords. 

The privileges of the members of this house are such as to offer 
considerable temptation to their political virtue. A body of men, 
whose eminence consists in artificial distinctions between them 
and the rest of the community, are likely to desire to make these 
distinctions needlessly great; and for that purpose to postpone 
the public welfare to the interests of an order. We all know that 
there is a collective as well as an individual ambition. It is a 
truth which a peer should habitually inculcate upon himself, that 
however rank and title may be conferred for the gratification of 



372 


LORD CHATHAM. 


Essay 3 . 


the possessor, the legislative privileges of a peer are to be held 
exclusively subservient to the general good. I use the word exclu¬ 
sively in its strictest sense : so that, if even the question should 
come, whether any part or the whole of the privileges of the 
peerage should be withdrawn or the general good should be 
sacrificed, I should say that no reasonable question could exist 
respecting the proper alternative. Were I a peer, I should not 
think myself at liberty to urge the privileges of my order in oppo¬ 
sition to the public weal; for this were evidently to postpone the 
greater interests to the less. If rulers of all kinds, if civil govern¬ 
ment itself, are simply the officers of the nation, surely no one 
class of rulers is at liberty to put its pretensions in opposition to 
the national advantage. 

The love of title and of rank constitutes one of the great temp¬ 
tations of the political man. He can obtain them only from the 
crown ; and it is not usual to bestow them except upon those who 
support the administration of the day. The intensity of the desire 
which some men feel for these distinctions has a correspondency 
intense effect. Lord Chatham said “ that he had known men of 
great ambition for power and dominion, many whose characters 
were tarnished by glaring defects, some with many vices,—who 
nevertheless could be prevailed upon to join in the best public 
measures ; but the moment he found any man who had set himself 
down as a candidate for a peerage, he despaired of his ever being 
a friend to his country.” 1 This displays a curious political pheno¬ 
menon. Can the reader give a better solution than the suppo¬ 
sition that, in the love itself of title, there is something little and 
low, and that the minds which can be so anxious for it are commonly 
too little and too low to sacrifice their hopes to friendship for their 
country 1—Many who are not candidates for peerages, neverthe¬ 
less look upon them with a wishing eye ; and some who have 
attained to the lower honours of the order, are equally solicitous 
for advancement to the higher. So that even upon those on 
whom the temptation is not so powerful as that of which Chatham 
speaks—some temptation is laid;—a temptation of which it were 
idle to dispute that the aggregate effect is great. 

If, without reference to the existing state of Britain, a man should 
ask whether the legislators of a nation ought to be subjected to 
such temptation,—whether it were a judicious political institution, 
1 Quoted by Fox. — Fell’s Memoirs. 


HOUSE OF LORDS—BISHOPS. 


373 


Chap. 8. 


I should answer, No : because I should judge that a legislative 
assembly ought to have no inducements or motives foreign to the 
general good. This appears to be so obviously true that the ne¬ 
cessity, if there be a necessity, for an assembly so constituted, 
only evinces how imperfect the political character of a people is. 
There would be no need for having 'recourse to an objectionable 
species of assembly, if it were not wanted to counteract or to effect 
purposes which a purely constituted assembly could not attain. 

In estimating the relative worthiness of objects of human pur¬ 
suit, a peerage does not appear to rank high. I know not indeed 
how it happens that men contemplate it with so much complacency; 
and that so few are found who appear to doubt whether it is one 
of the most reasonable and worthy objects of human desire. A 
title! Only think what a title is, and what it is not. It is a 
thing which philosophy may reasonably hold cheap ; a thing which 
partakes of the character of the tinsel watch, for which the new- 
breeched urchin looks with anxious eyes, and by which, when he 
has got it, he thinks he is made a greater man than before. If 
such be the character of title when brought into comparison with 
the dignity of man, what is it when it is compared with the dig¬ 
nity of the Christian 1 Nothing. It may be affirmed without any 
apprehension of error, that the greater the degree in which any 
man is a Christian, the less will be his wish to be called a lord ; 
and that when he attains to the “ fulness of the stature” of a 
Christian man, no wish will remain.—If additional motives can be 
urged to reduce our ambition of title, some perhaps may be found 
in considering the grounds upon which it has too frequently been 
conferred. Queen Anne, when once the ministry could not carry 
a measure in the upper house, made twelve new peers at once. 
These, of course, voted for the measure. What honourable and 
elevated mind would have purchased one of these titles at the 
expense of the caustic question which a member put when they 
were going to give their first vote ,—“ Are you going to vote by 
your foreman ?” 

Whether the heads of a Christian church should possess seats 
in the legislature, is a question that has often been discussed—If 
a Christian bishop can attend to legislative affairs without infring¬ 
ing upon the time and attention which is due to his peculiar office, 
there appears nothing in that office which disqualifies him for le¬ 
gislative functions. The better a man is, the more, as a general 


374 


BISHOPS MEMBERS OF THE 


Essay 3 . 


rule, he is fit for a legislator; so that, assuming that bishops are 
peculiarly Christian men, it is not unfit that they should assist in 
the councils of the nation. Nevertheless, it must be conceded, 
that there is no peculiar congruity between the office of the Christ¬ 
ian overseer and that of an agent in political affairs. They are 
not incompatible indeed but the connection is not natural. Poli¬ 
tics do not form the proper business of a Christian shepherd. They 
are wholly foreign to his proper business; and that retirement 
from the things of the world which Christianity requires of her 
ministers, and which she must be supposed peculiarly to require 
of her more elevated ministers, indicates the propriety of meddling 
but little in affairs of state. But, when it comes to be proposed 
that all the heads of a Christian church shall be selected for legis¬ 
lators, because they are heads of the church,—the impropriety 
becomes manifest and great. To make a high religious office the 
qualification for a political office, is manifestly wrong. It may be 
found now and then that a good bishop is fit for a useful legislator, 
—but because you have elevated a man to a more onerous and 
responsible office in the church, forthwith to superadd an onerous 
and responsible office in the state, is surely not to consult the dic¬ 
tates of Christianity or of reason. Nor is it rational or Christian 
forthwith to add a temporal peerage. If there be any one thing, 
not absolutely vicious, which is incongruous with the proper tem¬ 
per and character of an exalted shepherd of the flock, it is tem¬ 
poral splendour. Such splendour accords very well with the 
political character of the Romish church,—but with protestantism, 
with Christianity, it has no accordance. The splendours of title 
are utterly dissimilar in their character to the character of the 
heads of the church, as that character is indicated in the New 
Testament. How preposterous is the association in idea of “ My 
Lord” with a Paul or a Barnabas!—The truth indeed is, that this 
species of fornication did not originate in religion nor in religious 
motives. It sprung up with the corruptions of the papacy; and 
in this, as in some other instances, we who have purified the vici¬ 
ous doctrine, have clung to the vicious practice. 

To these considerations is to be added another : that the extent 
of jurisdiction which is assigned to the bishops of this country, is 
such as to occupy, if the office be rightly executed, a large portion 
of a bishop’s time,—a portion so large, that if he be exemplary 
as a bishop, he can hardly be exemplary as a legislator. If, as 


HOUSE OF LORDS. 


375 


Chap . 8. 

will perhaps be admitted, the diligent and conscientious pastor of 
an ordinary parish has a sufficient employment for his time, it 
cannot be supposed that a bishop has less. He who presides over 
hundreds of parishes and hundreds of pastors, and rightly presides 
over them, can surely find little time for attendance in the senate; 
especially when that attendance takes him, as it necessarily does, 
far away from the inferior shepherds and from the flocks. 

But, when it comes to be considered that our bishops are the 
heads of an established church, we are presented with a very dif¬ 
ferent field of inquiry. That which is not congruous with Christ¬ 
ianity may be congruous with a religious establishment. Nor, in 
a religious establishment like that which obtains in England, 
would there perhaps be any propriety in dismissing bishops from 
the house of Lords. They have to watch over other interests than 
those of religion,—political interests; and where shall they effi¬ 
ciently watch over them if they have no voice in political affairs ] 
Bishops in this country have not merely to “ feed the flock of God 
which is among them,” but to take care that that flock and their 
shepherds retain their privileges and their supremacy : so that if 
I were asked whether bishops ought to have a seat in the legisla¬ 
ture, I should answer,—If you mean by a bishop a head of a 
Christian church, he has other and better business:—if, by a 
bishop you mean the head of an established church, the question 
must be determined by the question of the rectitude of an esta¬ 
blished church itself. 

Without stopping to decide this question, it may be observed, 
that some serious mischiefs result from the institution as it exists. 
A bishop should be not only of unimpeachable, but, as far as may 
be, of untempted virtue. His office as a peer subjects him to 
great temptations. Bishops are more dependent upon the crown 
than any other class of peers, because vacancies for elevation in 
the church are continually occurring; and for these vacancies a 
bishop hopes. Since he cannot generally expect to obtain them 
by an opposition, however conscientious, to the minister of the 
day, he is placed in a situation which no good man ought to desire 
for himself; that of a powerful temptation to sacrifice his integrity 
to his interests. How frequently, or how far, that temptation pre¬ 
vails, I presume not to determine; but it is plain, whatever be 
the cause, that the minister can count upon the support of the 
bishops more confidently than upon any other class of peers. This 


376 


THE BENCH OF BISHOPS.—PROXIES. Essay 3. 


is not the experience of one minister, or of two, but in general 
language, of all. History states, informally and as an unquestioned 
circumstance, that “ from the bench of bishops the court usually 
expects the greatest complaisance and submission.” 1 I perceive 
nothing in the nature of the Christian office to induce this support 
of the minister of the day. I do not see why a Christian pastor 
should do this rather than a legislator of another station: for it 
will hardly be contended that there is so much goodness and pu¬ 
rity in ministerial transactions, that a Christian pastor must sup¬ 
port them because they are so pure and so good. What conclusion 
then remains, but that temptation is presented, and that it prevails 1 
That this, simply regarded, is an evil, no man can doubt;—but let 
him remember that the evil is not necessarily incidental even to the 
legislating bishop. There may be bishops without solicitude for 
translations, for there may be a church without dependence on the 
crown, or connection with the state. Whilst this connection and 
this dependence remains, I do not say that ecclesiastical peers 
cannot be exempt from unworthy influence, but there is no hope 
of exemption in the present condition of mankind. 

The system which obtains in the house of lords of accepting 
proxies in divisions, appears strangely inconsistent with propriety 
and reason. It intimates utter contempt of the debates of the 
house; because it virtually declares that the arguments of the 
speakers are of no weight or concern. Who can tell or who 
ought to tell, when he gives his proxy to another, whether the 
discussion might not alter his views and make him vote on the 
other side 1 Proxies are congruous enough with a system of le¬ 
gislation which is conducted upon maxims of interest and party— 
but if we suppose legislation to proceed upon evidence and rea¬ 
soning, they are a preposterous mockery of common sense. 

The number of peers has rapidly increased. This may be a 
subject of regret to the peerage itself, because every addition to 
its number may be regarded as a reduction from the dignity of 
each. The dignity is relative, and consists in the distinction be¬ 
tween them and other men; which distinction becomes less as 
peers become common. As the peerage is progressively increased 
in number, a lord will be progressively reduced in practical rank. 
The title remains the same, but the actual distinction, between 
him and other men is waning away. But, though this may cause 

1 Hume’s England. 


Chap. 8. HOUSE OF LORDS—HOUSE OF COMMONS. 377 


regret to a peer, it ought to cause none to the man of reason or 
the patriot. As to reason, if our estimates of title be accurate, its 
distinctions are sufficiently vain: and as to patriotism, if our 
country is increasing in knowledge and in excellence, it is in¬ 
creasing in its ability to direct its own policy, without the inter¬ 
vention of an order of peers. So that, supposing the cessation of 
that order to be hereafter desirable, the patriot may hope that its 
distinctions will be yielded up to the general weal more willingly 
when they have become insignificant by diffusion, than if they 
were great by being possessed but by a few. 


In reflecting then upon the political character of the house of 
lords, it is to be remembered that its utility appears to be condi¬ 
tional ,—conditional upon the state of the community. It may be 
needed to check intemperate measures, to restrain, for instance, 
the vicious encroachments of democracy; but it is not needed in 
any other sense. It is like the physician’s prescription or the 
surgeon’s knife,—useful in an unhealthy state of the social body, 
but useless if it were sound. The reader will say that this is strong 
language; and so it is: but he has no reason to complain if it is 
the language of truth; and that it is true, he may perhaps be 
convinced by authority, upon such a subject, less questionable 
than mine. “ Were the voice of the people always dictated by 
reflexion ; did every man, or even one man in a hundred, think 
for himself\ of actually consider the measure he was about to 
approve or censure; or even were the common people tolerably 
steadfast in the judgment which they formed, I should hold the 
interference of a superior order not only superfluous but wrong ,” 1 
III. The House of Commons is, constitutionally, the represen¬ 
tative of the people; and the degree in which it fulfils this its 
constitutional office, is to be estimated by the degree in which the 
public wish is actually represented by its members. “ It is 
essential to the happiness of the people that they should be con¬ 
vinced that they, and the members of this house, feel an identity 
of interest; that the nation at large, and the representatives of 
the people, hold a conformity of sentiment. This is the essence of 
a proper representative assembly.” 2 It is not necessary to the just 
fulfilment of this office, that every measure which a majority of 
1 Paley: Mor. & Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 7. 2 William Pitt: Gifford’s Life, v. 3. 



378 


ATTENTION TO THE 


Essay 3. 


the people desires, should be adopted by the house; because its 
members are often better able to judge what is good for the majo¬ 
rity, than they are themselves; and because, sometimes, popular 
opinions are not, I think, capricious, but fluctuating and unreason¬ 
ably vehement. There was a time when the populace were in 
tumult and almost in insurrection, because the legislature had 
erected turnpikes; but if three-fourths of the population of the 
country had joined in the outcry, it would not have been a good 
reason for repealing the act. But, if the public wish is not always 
to be gratified by the house of commons, it is always to be 
expressed within its walls. The house should know what the 
people desire, though they are at liberty, if they think it needful, to 
reject that desire. This, it is obvious, is a right which the people 
may claim of the republican part of the constitution. It were 
neither decorous nor wise to show even impatience at the respect¬ 
ful petitions of the people;—not decorous, for it implies forgetful¬ 
ness that the house is the servant of the public;—not wise, for a 
candid attention to the public representations, even when they are 
not acted upon, is one of the surest means of conciliating the 
esteem, and of administering to the satisfaction of the community. 

In estimating the extent to which the decisions of the house of 
commons ought actually to correspond with the public wishes, no 
narrow limits should be prescribed. It is here, if any where, that 
the people are to be heard. Both the other branches of the con¬ 
stitution tend naturally to their separate and privileged interests: 
so that if in the senate of a republican government the people 
ought to be represented, much more emphatically ought they to be 
represented by the commons in a government like our own. 

The most accurate test of the degree in which the British house 
of commons fulfils this its primary office, is to be sought in the 
deliberate judgments of reasonable and thinking men;—not of 
party men, or interested men,—but of the temperate and the good. 
Now there is reason to think that, in the judgments of this portion 
of the community, there is not a just and sufficient identity 
between the public voice and the measures of this house. 

But, supposing the practical representation to be defective, how 
is the defect to be repaired 1 A question this, of far less easy 
solution than some politicians would persuade us! Not frequency 
of parliaments,—not extensions of the franchise,—not altering the 
modes of election will be sufficient. The evil is seated, primarily 


Chap. 8 . 


WISHES OF THE PEOPLE. 


379 


and essentially, in the impure condition, in the imperfect virtue, of 
man. To those who are imperfect and impure, temptation is 
offered,—the temptation perhaps of party,—perhaps of interest,— 
perhaps of resentment,—perhaps of ambition. You cannot make 
men proof against these temptations but by making them good; 
and modes of electing or frequency of election will not do this. The 
only reformation must result from the reformation of the heart. 
Electors themselves are not solicitous to elect good men. They are 
influenced by passion, and interest, and party.—How then should they 
select those who are independent, and disinterested, and temperate! 

But evils which cannot be removed may be diminished; and 
since the evil in question indicates an insufficient degree of liberty, 
both civil and political, it may be of advantage to inquire whether 
both cannot be and ought not to be increased. 

Now, remembering that it lies upon the legislature to prove 
that the present institutions are the best ,—what is the evidence 
that mischief would arise from an extension of the franchise and 
from an alteration of the modes of election ] We are not required 
to evince that benefit would arise from such measures; because 
their propriety is dictated by the principles of political truth, 
unless it is shown that they would be pernicious. Assuredly, in 
contemplating mere probabilities, it is more probable that a repre¬ 
sentative will be virtuously chosen, when he is chosen by a 
thousand men than when by only ten. The reason is simple, that 
it is much more difficult to offer vicious motives to the electors. 
If the probability of advantage in such an alteration is disputable, 
it must be by the production of very strong probabilities on the 
other side. And until those probabilities are adduced, I see not 
how it can be denied that from the public is withheld a portion of 
their civil rights. There is always one powerful reason for an 
extension of the legal right of election, which is, that it tends to 
satisfy the people. This satisfaction is of importance, whether 
the wish of the people be in itself desirable or not: so that of two 
measures which in other respects were equally eligible, that would 
become the best and the right one, which imparted the greatest 
satisfaction to the community. It cannot be hoped that this satis¬ 
faction will ever prevail during the continuance of the present 
state of the franchise. Its irregular and inconsistent character 
will always (even setting aside its consequences) give rise to 
uneasiness and complaints. A large county can never think poli¬ 
tical justice is exercised while it sends no more members than 


380 EXTENSION OF THE ELECTIVE FRANCHISE. Essay 3. 


a little borough. Birmingham and Manchester will never think 
it is exercised, whilst Old Sarum sends two members and they 
send none. 

There are, no doubt, many difficulties interposed in the way of 
the legislature in proceeding to a reformation,—which difficulties, 
however, will generally be found to result from the existing impu¬ 
rity of the present system. It is not perhaps impossible that if a 
house of commons were selected by any approach to universal 
suffrage, it would ere long interfere with the established modes of 
governing. Many, it is probable, would feel that their prejudices 
w r ere outraged, and their interests invaded, and their privileges 
diminished or taken away. These prospects interpose difficulties; 
and yet unless these prejudices are reasonable, and these interests 
virtuous, and these privileges dictated by the public good, it will 
be seen that the difficulties of reform result, not from any defect in 
the principles of Political Truth, but from the conflict between the 
operation of those principles and exceptionable systems. 

Not, indeed, that a representative body, however elected, is to 
be concluded as necessarily temperate and wise. There is much 
reason to fear, in the present state of private virtue, that if the 
house of commons were a purely popular assembly, it might both 
injudiciously and unjustifiably excite political distractions. If on 
the one hand they found that any existing institutions required 
amendment, they would probably on the other hand seek to 
establish popular power in opposition to the general good. 

Nevertheless, there appears sufficient reason for thinking that 
some alteration, and considerable alteration, might be made in the 
system of representation, which would do good without doing evil. 
If the British empire is not prepared for a purely popular repre¬ 
sentation, it is, I think, prepared for a representation more popular 
than that which obtains. Mild and gradual alteration is perhaps 
the best. The franchise may be extended, one by one, to new 
districts or new towns, and taken away or modified, one by one, 
from places in which the electors are few or in which they are 
corrupt. By such means the reformation might keep pace, and 
only keep pace, with the general progress of the nation. The 
prospect of successive amendment would tend to satisfy the public, 
and the general end be eventually answered by innoxious means. 

Some want of enlargement of views appears to exist with 
respect to the propriety and the right of the legislature to remove 
the elective franchise. It seems to be thought that a borough 


Chap. 8 . 


UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE. 


381 


ought not to be deprived of it, unless its corruption is both general 
and distinctly proved. But why 1 The franchise is not possessed 
for the gratification of the inhabitants of a particular spot, but for 
the national good. It might, no doubt, have originally been given 
for their gratification, but this was always an unreasonable motive 
for granting it. If the general advantage requires the transfer of 
the right of election, it were strange indeed if the inhabitants of a 
little town ought to prevent it by exclaiming, Do not encroach 
upon our privileges. As to the property vested in the privilege, 
it is founded, if not in corruption, in political impropriety. For 
a householder to say, I have given a hundred pounds more for my 
premises because they conveyed a right of voting, or for a patron 
to say, I have given an extra five thousand for a manor because 
it enabled me to nominate two representatives, is surely a very 
insufficient reason for continuing a franchise that is adverse to the 
common weal. However, it is probable that the great object is 
not to take away privileges but to extend them, and by that 
extension to secure the probability of uninfluenced elections. 

Universal suffrage is a bye word of political scorn: and yet it 
is probable that the country will one day be fit for the adoption of 
universal suffrage. The objections to it are founded—as, antece¬ 
dently to inquiry, I should expect they would be founded,—upon 
the ignorant and vicious state of mankind. If knowledge and 
virtue increase, universal suffrage may hereafter be rightly 
adopted.—Hf they are now increasing, approaches towards such 
suffrage are desirable now. Nor perhaps is the public preparation 
for these approaches so little as some men suppose. A part of our 
objections to it are quite fortuitous and accidental, and easily 
removable by legislative enactments. Nor again is it to be for¬ 
gotten, that some of the States in the American Union do actually 
adopt universal suffrage or something that is very much like 
it. Upon this subject it is always to be remembered, that unless 
the withholding of the privilege of election is necessary to the 
national welfare, the possession of it is, in strictness, a civil 
right. It can never be shown upon other grounds than expe¬ 
diency, why one man should possess the privilege whilst his 
neighbour should not. 

The present modes of election are productive of much evil,— 
evil by facilitating undue influence,—evil by occasioning im¬ 
morality and riot,—and evil by attaching to the idea of frequent 


382 


MODES OF ELECTION. 


Essay 3. 


elections ideas of national inquietude and confusion. When we 
see, at the time of an election, a multitude of men brought 
together, many of them perhaps from a distance, and fed and 
lodged at the expense of one of the candidates, we certainly see 
that the door is opened wide for the entrance of corruption. In 
1696 an Act was passed “for voiding all the elections of par¬ 
liament men, at which the elected had been at any expense 
in meat, drink, or money, to procure votes.” 1 When we see the 
neighbouring tenantry of the several large land-owners, (petty 
freeholders though they be,) classed in separate bodies, and voting, 
almost to a man, for the favourite of their landlord, we see either 
that improper influence is grossly employed, or that the exercise 
of private judgment is with such voters, only a name. If indeed 
there were no possibility of obtaining more considerate votes 
from the population, I know not that much is to be hoped from a 
great extension of the franchise, or from an alteration of the 
modes of election.—The riot and confusion of elections is so great, 
that politicians find it needful to advise dissolutions of parliament, 
at periods when it is supposed that the excitement may be safely 
occasioned without endangering mischief to the general tranquil¬ 
lity. It would not be found a small item in the national guilt, if 
we were to compute the amount of private vice, of intemperance, 
profaneness, and debauchery, which a general election occasions. 
-—These evils, again, are urged against proposals for increasing 
the frequency of elections ! Thus one vicious system becomes an 
excuse for another. You are afraid to endeavour parliamentary 
integrity by frequent elections, because your bad system of 
elections produces so much mischief! The simple and obvious 
remedy is to elect representatives on a less objectionable system. 
A few propositions respecting the modes of election, will probably 
not be rejected by reasonable men. 

That the elector should not he obliged to go to a distance from 
his own home: —because, if the place of election be distant, he 
will either refuse to go, — which nullifies the institution with 
respect to him;—or he will go and expect to be reimbursed his 
expenses and his loss of time,-—which leads, almost inevitablv, to 
corruption. 

That candidates shoidd be at no expense in conducting the 
election: — because their payments will operate as bribes, — 

1 Smollett: Hist. England. 


Chap. 8 . 


ANNUAL PARLIAMENTS. 


383 


because the necessity of expense precludes virtuous and able men 
who cannot afford it, from being chosen,—and because he who 
has, in this sense, purchased his seat, is in danger of thinking 
himself at liberty to repay himself by seeking the rewards of poli¬ 
tical subserviency. 

That it ought not to he known for what candidate an elector 
votes .- 1 —because, if it is known, the elector will probably be afraid 
to vote for the man of his own choice, lest some friend of an 
adverse candidate, in whose good offices he is interested, should 
withdraw them. 

These propositions tend to the recommendation of some species 
of ballot, for securing secrecy; of elections at the public expense, 
for excluding the mischiefs of expenses to the candidate; and of the 
visit, probably, of proper officers from house to house, to exclude the 
mischiefs of requiring electors to leave their homes. Such insti¬ 
tutions would I believe prevent many, at least, of the mischiefs, 
moral and political, of the present system; and would take away 
from the advocate of long-lived parliaments, one popular reason in 
their favour. 

[“ Annual Parliaments” is another bye word of contempt; — 
and perhaps they will never be expedient. This is one question : 
the expediency of septennial parliaments is another. Nor is it a 
very philosophical nor a very honest mode of contemning an al¬ 
teration, to assume that there is no practicable intermediate period 
between one year and seven. The American house of representa¬ 
tives is elected -for two years, and as their senate also is a repre¬ 
sentative body, whilst our house of lords is not, it is probable that 
biennial parliaments, with a reformed mode of election, would be 
practicable and beneficial here.] 

[The electors of a district choose a man of whom they hope 
rather than know the character. They find in the course of a year 
or two that he is unable or unwilling to discharge his public duty. 
To prevent such electors from making another choice,—to oblige 


1 I am disposed to acknowledge that this secrecy of suffrages is not congruous 
with that manly independence which it were desirable to promote. In a better state 
of society open voting appears the more virtuous and honourable course; for why 
should a man desire to conceal that which he thinks it right to do 1 Besides, Balloting 
endangers the practice of hypocrisy by promising or pretending to vote according to 
the wish of another, and taking advantage of the secrecy to vote against it.—Y et I 
see not that these consequences are such as to vitiate the system as applicable and as 
expedient in the present day. 


384 


QUALIFICATIONS OF VOTERS AND Essay 3. 


them, for seven years, to be, in effect, destitute of a representation, 
is a serious grievance, and it may be a serious evil.] 

[A little before a dissolution there is sometimes a manifest 
endeavour to conciliate the public by the adoption of some measure 
which they approve.—Can it be doubted that there would be an 
advantage in making such measures more frequently necessary ?— 
or that more frequent parliaments would perceive the necessity 
and act upon it ]] 

With respect to the qualifications for voting, no rule can be 
prescribed, because no rule can define how large a portion of the 
people, or whether the whole, ought to possess votes. The security 
of the virtuous exercise of the privilege is manifestly the object to 
be attained,—which security must be sought according to some 
general rule. It may be doubted whether (until all men are fit to 
become electors) any general rule is better than that of amount 
of propert}^; not so much because the possession of property 
exempts men from vicious influence, as because, amongst the 
possessors of some competent property, is the largest portion of 
thinking men. We want not only an unbiassed but a rational 
judgment. In the present state of property, the preference, in 
towns, of freeholders to renters appears to be carried too far. The 
man who rents a house of forty pounds a year, is much more likely 
to give a free and considerate vote than he who possesses only a 
freehold of three or four pounds. Whatever qualification is 
required it should be universally uniform. At any rate it should 
vary only in compliance with the local necessities of a district. 
“ Freedom” of burghs and cities, and the rules by which freedom 
is obtainable, are relics of a barbarous state of policy,—relics 
wdiich appear unworthy of the present age. They are like the 
local jurisdictions of chartered magistracy, which one of our judges 
recently reprobated from the bench as blots in the constitution. 

No qualification should be required in a representative, but the 
single and sufficient one, that his constituents prefer him to any 
other man. It is a hardship upon them and upon him to thwart 
their choice—the best perhaps that could be made—because the 
candidate does not possess a certain amount of wealth. The case 
is different from that of the electors; for though the exaction of 
wealth in a representative may exclude some of the fittest men in 
the country to assist the councils of the state, yet from the eligi¬ 
bility of every man there is no danger that such a proportion of 


Chap. 8 . REPRESENTATIVES.—CANVASSING. 


385 


poorer men would be elected, as to impede the legislature by their 
ignorance or vice. 

The peculiar circumstances of a people may indeed occasion 
the propriety of requiring some qualification in their legislators. 
When the American colonies had separated themselves from 
England, and were anxious to perpetuate their independence, and 
when they observed that their country was continually replenishing 
with new adventurers, it was perhaps reasonable to enact, that 
the members of their government should have been American 
citizens a certain number of years. But local and temporary 
necessities do not affect the general truth. 

Canvassing for votes is a vulgar and unworthy custom. I know 
not how it happens that a man of honourable mind is content to 
wander over the country, and call obeisantly at the doors of igno¬ 
rant and low men to solicit them to choose him for their represen¬ 
tative. Why, if they prefer him, they ought to choose him with¬ 
out solicitation. If they do not, they ought not to choose him with 
it. I should not like the consciousness that I possessed my seat, 
not because I deserved it, but because I begged the voters to elect 
me. Gentlemen, I doubt not, often feel the humiliation and expe¬ 
rience the disgust of these canvasses. It is one amongst the 
many sacrifices of manly dignity which are connected with politi¬ 
cal affairs. 

To an inquirer who was uninformed of the national circum¬ 
stances, it might appear an unaccountable absurdity to preclude 
Christian ministers from becoming the representative legislators 
of a Christian people. The better a man is, the better fitted he is 
for a legislator; and assuming that Christian pastors are amongst 
the best men, there seems no rational motive to exclude them from 
the senate. Abating the peculiar circumstances of a people, I 
can perceive no reason for excluding them which would not hold 
in favour of excluding Christianity itself. To Christian legislators, 
Christianity is the primary rule:—who then would refuse admit¬ 
tance to those of whqm it maybe presumed that they best understand 
the Christian law]—But, when we turn from the dictates of 
abstract reason and propriety, to the state of a nation in which 
there is an established church,—a church which assigns to one 
minister one specific spot for the exercise of its functions,—we 
are presented with a very different scene. You cannot elect one 
of them (setting sinecures out of the question) without taking him 

2 c 



386 


OF CHOOSING THE CLERGY, &c. Essay 3. 


away from his appointed charge, nor without leaving that charge 
to he as sheep without a shepherd. Nevertheless, since there are 
in fact more clergymen than parishes, it does not appear obvious 
why they should be refused eligibility. I would not, as in the case 
of the bishops, make any number or any order of clergy legisla¬ 
tors, because they were clergy; but neither would I, because they 
were clergy, refuse to admit them. Perhaps, if the institution 
were remodelled, clergy might be allowed to be eligible,—for their 
exclusion, it may be presumed, is the result originally rather of 
accident than design. They once had a convocation of their own, 
with considerable political power; and when that convocation fell 
into disuse, no one perhaps thought of their reasonable claims for 
admissibility to the house of commons. Let the writer be under¬ 
stood :—he is not proposing that episcopal clergy, as such, should 
be admitted into our house of commons, but he is saying, that 
Christian ministers should not, as such, be excluded from the 
councils of a Christian nation. Penn was not the worse legislator 
because he was an active minister of the gospel. 

But after all, it is disputed whether any alteration in the con¬ 
stitution of the house of commons or in the system of representation 
would produce good effects,—whether more virtue or more talent 
could be collected than is collected now. A question this, of which 
the negative has the advantage of experience, and the positive has 
not. We know that the present system has done good:—the 
effect of another is involved in uncertainty. Now let it be consi¬ 
dered, first, that from the reign of Elizabeth through several suc¬ 
ceeding reigns down to the revolution, the actual power of the 
house of commons increased. Was not that increase productive, 
on the whole, and is it not at the present hour productive, of good 
effects] Granting that it was,—will any man affirm that one 
hundred and forty years have added nothing to the capability of 
the British public to judge soundly respecting political affairs ] If 
the capacity of sound judgment is increased, is it unreasonable— 
remembering the principles of political truth—that that judgment 
should possess a greater influence in the conduct of public affairs] 
If that influence ought in reason to be increased, how shall the in¬ 
crease be so judiciously contrived as by making the house of com¬ 
mons a more accurate and immediate representative of the public 
mind] 

As to the virtue, then, of the house of commons, its peculiar and 


Chap. 8 . 


FREQUENT ELECTIONS. 


387 


characteristic virtue consists in the accuracy of their representa¬ 
tion; and no man, I think, will deny that a greater practical 
representation is possible than that which now obtains. It is 
asked, “ If such a number of such men be liable to the influence of 
corrupt motives, what assembly of men will be secure from the 
same danger]” 1 But this is not the question: for even if six 
hundred and fifty-eight men could not be selected who would be 
more proof against corruption when elected for seven years, yet the 
same men might be found more proof against it if they were elected 
only for two. A minister then, instead of having to provide the 
inducements of influence for six hundred and fifty-eight men, 
would have to provide them for nearly two thousand. Either he 
must augment three or four fold the aggregate amount of his 
influence, or he must, in the same proportion, diminish its power 
upon individuals. To think of so increasing the amount is absurd. 
He must therefore curtail its individual streams. It would then be 
much less worth the while of a member to submit to corruption. 
The temptation would be diminished, and with the diminution 
of temptation there would be an increase of practical virtue. Nor 
is this all. It is, I believe, an undisputed fact, that those who 
represent the largest number of electors are, in the aggregate, less 
subject to influence than those who represent a few. An altered 
mode of representation might increase the number of those whose 
constituents were numerous, or make them numerous to all—and 
thus that scale of virtuous independence which is now found 
amongst a part of the representatives, might then be found in all. 

Then as to the accumulation of talent. I think it questionable 
whether the brilliancy of the house of commons would not be 
diminished by such an alteration as that of which we speak : 
partly because, in the language of Dr. Paley, “ when boroughs are 
set to sale, those men are likely to become purchasers, who are 
enabled by their talents to make the best of their bargain.” Grant¬ 
ing all this, the answer is at hand,—that splendour of abilities is 
much less necessary than integrity of virtue If the question is 
between talent and rectitude,—rectitude is our choice. Unusual 
talents, how much soever they may amuse and delight the house, 
and how acceptably soever they may fill the columns of a news¬ 
paper, are greatly overrated in value,—at least they are greatly 
overrated in reference to a sound state of political affairs. The 
1 Paley: Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 7. 



388 


DUTIES OF A REPRESENTATIVE. Essay 3. 


tortuous and wily policy which obtains, needs, no doubt, much 
sagacity and adroitness to conduct it successfully and with a fair 
face. What is really wanted in a legislator is not brilliancy of 
talent, but a sound, and an enlightened, and an upright mind. 
Nor is it to be forgotten, that the splendid talents of those who 
seek “ to make the best of their bargain,” may be an evil rather 
than a good. The bargain, it is to be feared, will be a losing one 
to the public; and by him who makes the best, the public may 
lose the most. After all, it needs not to be feared that six or 
seven hundred of such men as a house of commons will always 
contain, will possess a sufficient aggregate of ability for all the 
needful and all the virtuous business of the house. 

It has sometimes been inquired, What are the duties of a 
representative with respect to his constituents 1—Generally, it is 
his duty to represent their opinions, and to act and rote upon his 
own. It has been well remarked, that a senator should consider 
himself not so much the representative of one portion of the com¬ 
munity, as a legislator for all; and he can fulfil this superior duty 
only by exercising his individual judgment. Nevertheless, a man 
with a nice sense of justice and honour, if it be found that the 
majority of his votes were at variance with the desires of his con¬ 
stituents, ought to reflect that he is really no longer their repre¬ 
sentative, and to offer the resignation of their trust into their 
hands. 

It is curious, that whilst it is thus made a question whether a 
man should follow his own judgment in opposition to that of his 
constituents, no question seems to be entertained whether a man 
should follow his own judgment in opposition to his patron's. 
There the elector’s opinion is to prevail:—else, the representative 
is not a man of honour!—else, he does not fulfil the condition on 
which he was appointed ]—At the contemplation of such things 
common sense is confounded, and purity turns away her eyes. 1 

Amongst the extraordinary doctrines which have arisen out of 
the impurity of political transactions, that of the “ constitutional 
propriety of a systematic opposition” is one. To assert this, is to 
exhibit the political disease ,—as he who has got the gout manifests 
the disorder to his visitors by his swathed and cushioned leg. 

1 Some members who have owed their seats to patronage, have, I believe, had 
the virtue to stipulate for the freedom of their votes. Of this number it is said that 
the late Lord Chancellor Eldon was one. 


Chap. 8 . 


PLACEMEN AND PENSIONERS. 


389 


You cannot frame a more preposterous proposition than that good 
government ought to be systematically opposed. If a government 
ought to be opposed, it is only because it is not good. If, being good, 
it is systematically opposed, there is viciousness in the opposition. 
In whatever way you defend an organized opposition, you assume 
the existence of evil. The motives in which the systematic oppo¬ 
sition of some men is founded, correspond with the pervading 
impurity. Although there is reason to be assured that of some 
the very frequent opposition to a ministry is the result of political 
integrity, of others it cannot be doubted that the motives are 
kindred to those which are intimated in the humiliating note 
below. 1 

[The invective, and the ridicule, and retort, and personality, 
which are frequently indulged within the walls of parliament, and 
from which much amusement appears to be derived to the members 
and to the public, imply, to be sure, a sufficient degree of forget¬ 
fulness of the purpose for which parliaments meet. A spectator 
might sometimes imagine that the object of the assembly was 
to witness exhibitions of intellectual gladiators, rather than to 
debate respecting the welfare of a great nation. Nor can it be 
supposed that if this welfare were sufficiently, that is to say, con¬ 
stantly, dominant in the recollection, there would be so much 
solicitude to expose individual weaknesses and absurdity, or to 
obtain personal triumph.] 

Much is said about “ the exclusion of placemen and pensioners 
from parliament,”—the propriety or impropriety of which is to be 
determined by the same rules as the question of political influence. 
If influence is necessary to the existence of the present form Of 
government, and if that influence is necessary in parliament, I see 
little ground to declaim against the admission of placemen. In a 
purer state of society they would no doubt be improper members, 
because then none ought to be members who have any inducement 
to sacrifice the interests of the public to their own. By the act of 
settlement indeed it was provided, “ that no person who has an 
office or place of profit under the king, or receives a pension from 
the crown, shall be capable of serving as member of the house of 

1 Opposition “ had received a mortal wound by the death of the late Prince of 
Wales, some of whose adherents had prudently sung their palinodia to the ministry, 
and been gratified with profitable employments; while others, setting too great a 
price upon their own importance, kept aloof till the market was over, and were left 
to pine in secret over their disappointed ambition.” Smollett’s England: v. 3, p. 391. 


390 


POSTHUMOUS CELEBRITY. 


Essay 3 . 


commons.” The spirit of this provision is practically superseded, 
though its letter so far operates that a king’s counsel who receives 
a few pounds a year as a salary from the crown, is incapable of 
possessing a seat. However, subsequently to the act of settle¬ 
ment various attempts were made really to exclude the possessors 
of offices and pensions. Bill after bill actually passed the house, 
but the measure was rejected and again rejected by the lords.— 
To pass such a bill in the present day, and to act upon it, would 
probably be tantamount to an overthrow of the constitution. 


It has sometimes been a subject of wonder to the writer, when 
reflecting upon the anxious solicitude of men for posthumous ce¬ 
lebrity, that this single motive has not induced more vigorous 
attempts on the part of a minister to regulate his measures by a 
stricter regard to the dictates of everlasting rectitude. I have 
wondered, because it is manifest from experience that posterity 
will and does regard those dictates in its estimate of the honours 
of the dead. A very few years dismiss much of the false colour¬ 
ing which temporary interests and politics throw over a minister’s 
conduct. It is ere long found that he obtains the largest share of 
posthumous celebrity, who has most constantly adhered to virtue. 
I propose not the hope of this celebrity as a motive to the Christ¬ 
ian : he has higher inducements: but I propose it to the man of 
ambition. The simple love of fame would be, if he were rational 
with respect to his own interests, a sufficient inducement to prefer 
that conduct which will for ever recommend itself to the approba¬ 
tion of mankind. When we shall see the statesman who has, in 
private and in public, but one standard of rectitude, and that one, 
the standard which is proposed in the gospel ; the statesman who 
is convinced, and acts upon the conviction, that every thing is 
wrong in the minister which would be wrong in the man;—we 
shall see a statesman whom probably the clamour of to-day will 
call a fool or a traitor, but whom good men now, and all men here¬ 
after, will regard as having attained almost to the pinnacle of vir¬ 
tue and honour,—and whom God will receive with the sentence of 
Well done. 

In concluding these brief disquisitions upon the British govern¬ 
ment, I would be allowed to state the conviction, and to urge it 
upon those who complain of its defects in theory or in practice, 



Chap. 8 . 


CONCLUSION. 


391 


that there is nothing in that theory or in that practice which war¬ 
rants the attempt at amendment by any species of violence. I 
say this, even if I did not think, as I do, that violence is unlawful 
upon other grounds. There are no evils which make violence 
politically expedient. The right way of effecting amendments is 
by enlightening the national mind,—by enabling the public to 
think justly and temperately of political affairs. If to this tem¬ 
perate and just judgment, any part of the practice or of the form 
of our government should appear clearly and unquestionably ad¬ 
verse to the general good, it needs not to be feared that the cor¬ 
responding alteration will be made,—made by that best of all 
political agents, the power of deliberate public opinion. “ The 
will of the people when it is determined, permanent, and general, 
almost always at length prevails.” 1 And if it should appear to 
the lover of his country, that the prevalence of this will is too 
long delayed, let him take comfort in the recollection that less is 
lost by the postponement of reformation, than would be lost in the 
struggle consequent upon intemperate measures. 

1 Paley: Mor. and PoL Phil. b. 6, c. 7. 



CHAPTER IX. 


MORAL LEGISLATION. 

If a person who considered the general objects of the institu¬ 
tion of civil government, were to look over the titles of the acts 
of a legislature during fifteen or twenty years, he would probably 
be surprised to find the proportion so small of those of which it 
was the express object to benefit the moral character of the peo¬ 
ple. He would find many laws that respected foreign policy, many 
perhaps that referred to internal political economy, many for the 
punishment of crime,—but few that tended positively to promote 
the general happiness by increasing the general virtue. This, I 
say, may be a reasonable subject of surprise, when it is considered 
that the attainment of this happiness is the original and proper 
object of all government. There is a general want of advertence 
to this object, arising, in part, perhaps, from the insufficient de¬ 
gree of conviction that virtue is the best promoter of the general 
weal. 

To prevent an evil is always better than to repair it: for which 
reason, if it be in the power of the legislator to diminish tempta¬ 
tion or its influence, he will find that this is the most efficacious 
means of diminishing the offences and of increasing the happiness 
of a people. He who vigilantly detects and punishes vicious men, 
does well; but he who prevents them from becoming vicious, does 
better. It is better, both for a sufferer, for a culprit, and for the 
community, that a man’s purse should remain in his pocket, than 
that, when it is taken away, the thief should be sure of a prison. 

So far as is practicable, a government ought to be to a people, 
what a judicious parent is to a family,—-not merely the ruler, but 
the instructor and the guide. It is not perhaps so much in the 
power of a government to form the character of a people to virtue 
or to vice, as it is in the power of a parent to form that of his 
children. But much can be done if every thing cannot be : and 
indeed, when we take into account the relative duration of the 



Chap. 9. THE TWO OBJECTS OF MORAL LEGISLATION. 393 


political body, as compared with that of a family, we may have 
reason to doubt whether governments cannot effect as much in 
ages as parents can do in years.—Now, a judicious father adopts 
a system of moral culture as well as of restraint: he does not 
merely lop the vagrant branches of his intellectual plant, but he 
trains and directs them in their proper course. The second object 
is to punish vice,—the first to promote virtue. You may punish 
vice without securing virtue ; but if you secure virtue, the whole 
work is done. 

Yet this primary object of moral legislation is that to which, 
comparatively, little attention is paid. Penalties are multiplied 
upon the doers of evil, but little endeavour is used to prevent the 
commission of evil by inducing principles and habits which over¬ 
power the tendency to the commission. In this respect, we begin 
to legislate at the secondary part of our office rather than at the 
first. We are political surgeons who cut out the tumours in the 
state, rather than the prescribers of that wholesome regimen by 
which the diseases in the political body are prevented. 

But here arises a difficulty,-How shall that political parent 

teach virtue which is not virtuous itself] The governments of 
most nations, however they may inculcate virtue in their enact¬ 
ments, preach it very imperfectly by their example. What then 
is to be done 1 “ Make the tree good.” The first step in moral 

legislation is to rectify the legislator. It holds of nations as of 
men, that the beam should be first removed out of our own eye. 
Laws, in their insulated character, will be but partially effectual, 
whilst the practical example of a government is bad. To this 
consideration sufficient attention is not ordinarily paid. We do 
not adequately estimate the influence of a government’s example 
upon the public character. Government is an object to which we 
look up as to our superior ; and the many interests which prompt 
men to assimilate themselves to the character of the government, 
added to the natural tendency of subordinate parts to copy the 
example of the superior, occasions the character of a government, 
independently of its particular measures, to be of immense influ¬ 
ence upon the general virtue. Illustrations abound. If, in any 
instance political subserviency is found to be a more efficient re¬ 
commendation than integrity of character, it is easy to perceive 
that subserviency is practically inculcated and that integrity is 
practically discouraged. 





394 


EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE. 


Essay 3 . 


Amongst that portion, then, of a legislator’s office which con¬ 
sists in endeavouring the moral amelioration of a people, the 
amendment of political institutions is conspicuous. In proportion 
to the greatness of the influence of governments, is the obligation 
to direct that influence in favour of virtue. A government of 
which the principles and practice w T ere accordant with rectitude, 
would very powerfully affect the general morals. He, therefore, 
who explodes one vicious principle or who amends one corrupt 
practice, is to be regarded as amongst the most useful and honoura¬ 
ble of public men. 

If, however, in any state there are difficulties, at present in¬ 
surmountable, in the wa}' of improving political institutions, still 
let us do what we can. Precept without example may do some 
good: nor are we to forget, that if the public virtue is increased, 
by whatever means, it will react upon the governing power. A 
good people will not long tolerate a bad government. 

Amongst the most obvious means of rectifying the general 
morals by positive measures, one is the encouraging a judicious 
education of the people. Upon this judiciousness almost all its 
success depends. The great danger in undertaking a national 
system of education, is that some peculiar notions will be instilled 
for political purposes, and that it will be converted into a source 
of patronage. In a word, the great danger is, that national edu¬ 
cation should become, like national churches, an ally of the state; 
and if this is done, the system will inevitably become, if not 
corrupt, lamentably alloyed with corruption. It does not seem 
as if the people of this country would countenance any endeavour 
to institute an education like this, because an attempt has been 
made and the public voice was lifted successfully against it. A 
government, if it would rightly provide for the education of the 
community, must forget the peculiarities of creeds, political or 
religious. It must regard itself not as the head of a party but 
as the parent of the people. 

We know that schools exist which impart an important and 
valuable education to the poor, and to which men of all principles 
and all creeds are willing to subscribe. Here is effected much 
good with little or no evil. The great defect is in the limited 
extent of the good. The public cannot or do not give enough of 
their money to provide education for all. Is there then any suffi¬ 
cient reason why a government should not supply the deficiency; 



Chap. 9 . 


EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE. 


395 


or why it should not undertake the whole and leave private 
bounty to flow in other channels 1 The great difficulty is to pro¬ 
vide for the purity of the employment of the funds: for this 
employment may be made an ally of the petty politics of a town, 
as the whole institution may be made an ally of the state. How¬ 
ever, as the annual grants to almost all such institutions would be 
small, it might perhaps escape that universal bane. One thing 
would be indispensable,—to provide that the authority by which 
appointments to masterships, &c. are made, should he studiously 
constituted with a view to the exclusion of every motive but the 
single object of the institution. Whether it is possible to exclude 
improper motives may be doubted; but it is perhaps as possible 
to exclude them from those as from the many institutions which 
the public money now supports. There is one way indeed in 
which education may be promoted with little danger of this petty 
corruption, — by the purchase of land and erection of school 
houses. This, together with the supply of books and the like, 
forms a principal item in the expense of these schools : and it 
might be hoped that if the government did this, the public would 
do the remainder. 

But you say, All this will add to the national burdens. We 
need not be very jealous on this head, whilst w*e are so little jea¬ 
lous of more money, worse spent. Is it known, or is it con¬ 
sidered, that the expense of an ordinary campaign would endow a 
school in every parish in England and Ireland for ever ? Yet 
how coolly (who will contradict me if I say—how needlessly ]) 
we devote money to conduct a campaign!—Prevent, by a just 
and conciliating policy, one single war, and the money thus saved 
would provide, perpetually , a competent mental and moral educa¬ 
tion for every individual who needs it in the three kingdoms. 
Let a man for a moment indulge his imagination,—let him rather 
indulge his reason, in supposing that one of our wars during the 
last century had been avoided, and that, fifty years ago, such an 
education had been provided. Of what comparative importance 
is the war to us now 1 In the one case, the money has provided 
the historian with materials to fill his pages with armaments, and 
victories, and defeats ;—it has enabled us 

To point a moral or adorn a tale; 

—in the other, it would have effected, and would be now effecting, 


396 THE BIBLE SOCIETY.—-LOTTERIES. Essay 3. 

and would be destined for ages to effect, a great amount of solid 
good; a great increase of the virtue, the order, and the happiness 
of the people. 

I suppose that the British and Foreign Bible Society, during 
the twenty or thirty years that it has existed, has done more 
direct good in the world,—has had a greater effect in meliorating 
the condition of the human species,—than all the measures which 
have been directed to the same ends, of all the prime ministers in 
Europe during a century. But suppose much less than this, sup¬ 
pose-it has done more good than the moral measures of any one 
court, and will not this single and simple fact prove that much 
more is in the power of the legislator than he is accustomed to 
think; and prove too, that there is an unhappy want of adver¬ 
tence amongst the conductors of governments, to some of the 
most interesting and important duties of their office 1 With what 
means has this amount of moral good in all quarters of the earth 
been effected ?—Why with a revenue that never amounted to a 
hundred thousand pounds in any one year! A sum which, if we 
compare it with sums that are expended for measures of very 
questionable utility, is really trifling. Supposing that the legis¬ 
lature of this country had given an annual fifty thousand pounds 
to this institution, no man surely will dispute that the sums would 
have done incalculably more good in our own country—to say 
nothing of the world—than fifty thousand pounds of public money 
ordinarily effects. In passing, it may be observed too, that such 
an appropriation of money by a government, would probably do 
much in propitiating the friendliness and good offices of other 
nations. 

“ No consideration of emolument can be put in competition 
with the morals of a nation ; and no minister can be justified, 
either on civil or religious grounds, in rendering the latter sub¬ 
servient to the former.” 1 Such a truth should be brought into 
practical operation. If it had been, lotteries in England had not 
been so long endured,—if it were, the prodigious multitudes of 
public houses would not be endured now. That these haunts and 
schools of vice are pernicious no one doubts. Why is an excess 
of them permitted ]—They increase the revenue. “ Emolument 
is put in competition with morals,” and it prevails. Even on 
grounds of political economy however the evil is great,—for they 
1 Gifford : Life of Pitt. 


ABROGATION OF BAD LAWS. 


397 


Chap. 9. 

materially diminish the effective labour of the population. If to 
this we add the multitudes whom the idleness of drunkards throws 
upon the parishes, perhaps as much is really lost in wealth by 
this pennywise policy, as is lost in virtue. Besides, all needless 
alehousekeepers are dead weights upon the national industry. 
They contribute as little to the wealth of the state as he who 
lives upon the funds. 

“ It would be no injustice,” says Playfair, “ if publicans 
were prevented from legal recovery for beer or spirits consumed 
in their houses; in the same manner that payment cannot be 
enforced of any person under twenty one years of age, except 
for necessaries.” 1 This, however, were to attempt to cure one 
evil by another. It were a practical encouragement of continual 
fraud. The short and simple way is to refuse licenses, and to 
take care that those who have the power of licensing shall ex¬ 
ercise it justly. 

This sound proposition, that neither on “ civil nor religious 
grounds ” is it right to consult policy at the expense of morals, 
is, as we have seen, at the basis of political truth. Here, then, 
let Political Truth be applied. It will be found, by the far-seeing 
legislator, to be expedient as well as right. 


Bishop Warburton says, “ Though a multiplication of good 
laws does nothing against a general corruption of manners, yet 
the abrogation of bad ones greatly promotes reformation.” 1 
The truth of the first clause is very disputable: the last is un¬ 
questionably true. This abrogation of bad laws, forms a very 
important part of moral legislation; and unhappily, it is a part 
which there are peculiar difficulties in effecting. There are few 
bad laws of which there are not some persons who are interested 
in the continuance. The interests of these persons, the supine¬ 
ness of others, the pride of a third class, and the superstitious 
attachment of a fourth to ancient things, occasion many laws to 
remain on the statute books of nations, long after their pernicious¬ 
ness has been ascertained, 

Thus it has happened in our own country with respect to the 
game laws. It. is perfectly certain that they greatly increase the 

1 Causes of Decline of Nations, 4to. p. 226. 

2 Letters to Bishop Hurd, No. 32. 



398 


PRIMOGENITURE. 


Essay 3 . 


vices of the people, and yet they remain unrepealed. Why? 
Voluble answers can no doubt be given, but they will generally 
be resolvable into vanity or selfishness. The legislator who shall 
thoroughly amend the game laws, (perhaps thorough amendment 
will not he far from abolition ,) will be a greater benefactor to his 
country than multitudes who are rewarded with offices and 
coronets. 

Thus too it has happened w~ith the system of primogeniture. 
The two great effects of this system are, first, to increase the in¬ 
equality of property, and next to perpetuate the artificial distinctions 
of rank. 

That the existing inequality of property is a great political and 
moral evil, it was attempted in the third chapter of the preceding 
essay, to show. The means of diminishing this inequality, which 
in that chapter were urged as an obligation of private life, are not 
likely to be fully effectual so long as the law encourages its contin¬ 
uance. A man who possesses an estate in land dies without a will. 
He has two sons. Why should the law declare that one of these 
should be rich and the other poor 1 Is it reasonable ? Is it just ] 
As to its reasonableness, I discover no conceivable reason why, 
because one brother is born a twelvemonth before another, he 
should possess ten times as much property as the younger. Affec¬ 
tion dictates equality; and in such cases the dictate of affec¬ 
tion is commonly the dictate of reason. We have seen, what 
antecedently to inquiry we might expect, that the practical effects 
are bad. Civil laws ought, as moral guides of the community, to 
discourage great inequality of property. How then shall w r e 
sufficiently deplore a system which expressly encourages and 
increases it! Some time ago (and probably at the present day) 
the laws of Virginia did not permit one son to inherit the landed 
estates of his father to the exclusion of his brothers. The effect 
was beneficial, for it actually diminished the disparity of pro¬ 
perty. 1 We, however, not only do not forbid the descent of 
estates to one son, but we actually ordain it. It were sufficient, 
surely, to allow private vanity to have its own will in “ keeping 
up a family” at the expense of sense and virtue, without encou- 

1 The Virginians singularly confounded good moral legislation with had, for they 
made a law declaring all landed property inYiolable. The consequence was what 
might have been expected: many got into debt and remained quietly on their 
estates, laughing at their creditors. 



SPLENDOUR OF FAMILY. 


399 


Chap. 9 . 


raging it to do this by legal enactments when it might otherwise 
be more wise. The descent of intestates’ estates in land to the 
elder son has the effect of an example, and of inducing vicious 
notions upon those who make their wills. That which is habitual 
to the mind as a provision of the law, acquires a sort of sanction 
and fictitious propriety, by which it is recommended to the public. 

The partial distribution of intestates’ estates is, however, only 
of casual operation. Of the laws which make certain estates 
inalienable, or, which is not very different, allow the present 
possessor to entail them, the effect is constant and habitual. To 
prevent a reasonable and good man from making that division of 
his property which reason and goodness prescribe, is a measure 
which if it be adopted, ought surely to be recommended by very 
powerful considerations. And what are they,—except that they 
enable or oblige a man to keep up the splendour of his family 1 
Splendour of family! Oh! to what an ignis fatuus, to what a 
pitiable scheme of vanity, are affection, and reason, and virtue, 
obliged to bow! Where is the man who will stand forward and 
affirm that this splendour is dictated by a regard to the proper 
dignity of our nature! Where is he who will affirm that it is 
dictated by sound principles of virtue 1 Where, especially, is he 
who will affirm that it is dictated by religion 1 It has nothing to do 
with religion, nor virtue, nor human dignity : religion despises it 
as idly vain; morality reprobates it as sacrificing sense and affec¬ 
tion to vanity; dignity rejects it as a fictitious and unworthy sub¬ 
stitute for itself. Yet, perhaps, this humiliating motive of vanity is 
the most powerful of those which induce attachment to the system 
of primogeniture, or which would occasion opposition to attempts 
at reform. Perhaps it will be said, that to make the real estate 
of a man inalienable is really a kindness to his successors, by pre¬ 
venting him from squandering it away,—to which the answer is, 
that there is no more reason for preventing the extravagance of 
those who possess much property than of those who possess little. 
No legislature thinks of enacting that a man who has two thou¬ 
sand pounds in the funds shall not sell it and spend it if he thinks 
fit. In general, men take care of their property without compul¬ 
sion from the law; and if it is affirmed that the heads of great 
families are more addicted to this profusion and extravagance 
than other men, it will only additionally show the mischiefs of 
excessive possessions. Why should they be more addicted to it 



400 ACCUMULATION OF PROPERTY. Essay 3. 

unless the temptations of greatness are unusually powerful and 
unusually prevail ! 

But it will be said, that the system is almost necessary to an 
order of nobility. I am sorry for it. If, as is probably at pre¬ 
sent the case, that order is expedient in the political constitution, 
and if its weight in the constitution must be kept up by the 
system of primogeniture, I do not affirm that, with respect to the 
peerage, this system should be at present abolished. But then let 
the enlightened man consider whither these considerations lead him. 
If a system essentially irrational and injurious, is indispensable to 
a certain order of mankind, what is it but to show that, in the 
constitution of that order itself, there is something inherently 
wrong! Something that, if the excellence of mankind were 
greater, it would be found desirable to amend! Nor here, in 
accordance with that fearless pursuit of truth, whether welcome or 
unwelcome, which I propose to myself in these pages, can I refrain 
from the remark, that in surveying from different points the con¬ 
stituent principles of an order of peers, we are led to one and the 
same conclusion,—that there is in these principles something really 
and inherently wrong; something which adapts the order to an 
imperfect, and only to an imperfect, state of mankind. 

If then we grant the propriety of an exception in the case of 
the peerage, we do not grant it with respect to other men. Much 
may be done to diminish the inequality of property, and with it 
to diminish the vices of a people, by abolishing the system of 
primogeniture except in the case of peers. 

Of so great ill consequence is excessive wealth, and the effect 
to which it tends, excessive poverty, that a government might 
perhaps rightly discountenance the accumulation of extreme per¬ 
sonal property. Probably there is no means of doing this, without 
an improper encroachment upon liberty, except by some regula¬ 
tions respecting wills. I perceive nothing either unreasonable or 
unjust in refusing a probate for an amount exceeding a certain 
sum. Supposing the law would allow no man to bequeath more 
than a given sum, what would be the ill effect! That it would 
discourage enterprising industry! That industry is of little use 
which extends its desires of accumulation to an amount that has no 
limit. The man of talent and application, after he had so far 
benefited himself and his country by his exertions or inventions, 
as to acquire such property as would procure for him all the 


Chap. 9 . 


ACCUMULATION OF PROPERTY. 


401 


accommodations of life which he could rationally enjoy, may retire 
from the accumulation of more, and leave the result of his talents 
to bring comfort and competence to other men, It may be said, 
that a man might still accumulate a larger sum to dispose of before 
his death:—So he might; but few would do it. Of those who 
are ambitious of so much more than conduces to the welfare of 
themselves and their children, few would continue to toil in order 
to give it away. Benevolence does not generally form a part of 
the motives to such accumulation. If once the law refused the 
bequest of more than a fixed sum, by appropriating the excess to 
the exigencies of the state, or to measures of public utility, men 
would learn to set limits to their desires. That restless pursuit 
of wealth which is pernicious to the pursuer and to other men, 
would be powerfully checked; and he who had acquired enough, 
might habitually give place to the many who had too little.—-The 
writer of these pages makes no pretensions to a knowledge of the 
minute details of moral legislation. It is his business, in a case 
like this, whilst enforcing the end only to suggest the means. 
Other and better means of diminishing the inequality of property 
than those which have just been alluded to, may probably be 
discovered by practical men. But of the end itself it becomes 
the writer of morality to speak with earnestness and with con¬ 
fidence. 1 It admits of neither dispute nor doubt, that in our own 
country and in many others there subsist extremes of wealth and 
poverty which are highly injurious to private virtue and to the 
public good; and therefore it admits neither of dispute nor doubt, 
that the endeavour to diminish these extremes, is an important, 
(unhappy—that it is also a neglected /) branch of moral legis¬ 
lation. 

1 The legal division of the personal property of intestates, admits of easy amend¬ 
ment. Two men die, of whom each leaves six thousand pounds behind him. One 
has a wife and one child, and the other a wife and eight children. It can hardly he 
rational to give to the widow in both these cases the same share of the property. 
In one or two nations the law gives a third of the income of the real estates, in 
addition, to the widow; but better regulations even than this were easily devised. 



CHAPTER X. 


ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE. 

In considering this great subject the inquirer after truth is 
presented, as upon some kindred subjects, with one great per¬ 
vading difficulty. If he applies the conclusions of abstract 
truth, such is the imperfect condition of mankind, that it loses 
a portion of its practical adaptation to its object. If he de¬ 
viates from this truth, where shall he seek for a director of his 
judgment? He is left to roam amongst endless speculations, 
where nothing is to be found with the impress of certain rec¬ 
titude. 

The dictate of simple truth respecting the Administration of 
Justice is, that if two men differ upon a question of property or 
of right, that decision should be made between them which Justice, 
in that specific case, requires; that if a person has committed a 
public offence, that punishment should be awarded which his 
actual deserts and the proper objects of punishment demand. 

But if this truth is applied in the present state of society, it is 
found so difficult to obtain judges who will apply the sound prin¬ 
ciples of equity, judges who will exercise absolute discretionary 
power without improper biasses, that the inquirer is fearful to 
pronounce a judgment respecting the rule which should regulate 
the administration of justice. 

Men, seeing the difficulties to which an attempt to administer 
simple equity is exposed, have advanced as a fundamental maxim, 
—that the law shall be made by one set of men and its execution 
entrusted to another,—thus endeavouring, on the one hand, to 
prevent rules from being made under the bias resulting from the 
contemplation of particular cases, and on the other, to preclude 
the appliers of the rules from the influence of the same bias, by 
obliging them to decide according to a preconcerted law. 

But, when we have gone thus far,—when we have allowed 





Chap. 10. SUBSTITUTION OF JUSTICE FOR LAW. 403 


that questions between man and man shall be decided by a rule 
that is independent of the merits of the present case, we have 
departed far from the pure dictate of rectitude. We have made 
the standard to consist not of justice but of law; and having done 
this, we have opened wide the door to the entrance of injustice. 
And it does enter indeed! 

The consideration of this state of things indicates one satis¬ 
factory truth,—that we should pursue the rule of abstract rectitude 
to the utmost of our power; that we should constantly keep in 
view, that whatever decision is made upQn any other ground 
than that of simple justice, it is so far defeating the object for 
which Courts of Justice are established : and therefore, that in 
whatever degree it is practicable to find men who will decide 
every specific question according to the dictates of justice upon 
that question, in the same degree it is right to supersede the 
application of inferior principles. 

Am I then sacrificing the fundamental principles upon which 
the morality of these Essays is founded 1 Am I, at last, con¬ 
ceding that expediency ought to take precedence of rectitude'? 
No : but I am saying, that if the state of human virtue is such 
that not one can be found to judge justly between his brethren,—- 
men must judge as justly as they can, and a legislator must con¬ 
trive such boundaries and checks for those who have to administer 
justice, as shall make the imperfection of human virtue as little 
pernicious as he may. If this virtue were perfect, courts of law 
might perhaps safely and rightly be shut up. There would be a 
rule of judgment preferable to law; and law itself, so far as it 
consists of absolute rules for the direction of decisions between 
man and man, might almost be done away. 

Now, in considering the degree in which this great desideratum 
—the substitution of justice for law—can be effected, let us be 
especially careful that we throw no other impediments in the way 
of justice than those which are interposed by the want of purity 
in mankind. Let us never regard a system of administering 
justice as fixed, so that its maxims shall not be altered whenever 
an increase of purity dictates that an alteration may be made. 
All the existing national systems of administering justice are 
imperfect and alloyed;—a mixture of evil and good. It were 
sorrowful indeed to assume that they cannot be, or to provide that 
they shall not be, amended. 



404 


INADEQUACY OF FIXED RULES. Essay 3. 


The system in this country, like most systems which are 
the gradual accretion of the lapse of ages, is incongruous in its 
different parts. In the decisions that are founded upon legal 
technicalities, the method of applying absolute uniform law is 
adopted. In the assessment of damages there is exercised very 
great discretionary power. In pronouncing verdicts upon prison¬ 
ers, juries are scarcely allowed any discretion at all. They say 
absolutely either not guilty or guilty.—Then again, discretion 
is entrusted to the judge, and he may pronounce sentences of im¬ 
prisonment or of transportation, varying according to his judgment 
in their duration or circumstances. The reader should well ob¬ 
serve this admission of discretionary power to the judicial court, 
because it is a practical acknowledgment that considerations of 
equity are indispensable to the administration of justice, whatever 
may be the multiplicity or precision of the laws. Our judges are 
entrusted, on the circuits, with the discretionary power of com¬ 
muting capital punishments or leaving the offender for execution. 
This is equivalent to an acknowledgment, that even the most tre¬ 
mendous sanctions of the state are more safely applied upon 
principles of equity than upon principles of law. Let the reader 
bear this in his mind. 

Of the general tendency and attendant evils of uniform law, 
some illustrations have been offered in the preceding Essay, and 
some observations have been offered in the chapter on Arbitration, 
on the advantages of administering justice upon principles of 
equity, that is, by a large discretionary power. Now it will be 
our business to inquire into some of the reasonings by which the 
application of uniform law is recommended,—-to illustrate yet fur¬ 
ther the moral claims of Courts of Equity, and to show if we can 
that some greater approximation to the adoption of these courts is 
practicable even in the present condition of mankind. 

The administration of justice according to a previously made 
rule, labours under this fundamental objection,—that it assumes 
a knowledge in the maker of the rule which he does not possess. 
It assumes that he can tell beforehand not only what is a good 
decision in a certain class of questions but what is the best. And the 
objection appears so much the more palpable, because it assumes 
that a party who judges a case before it exists, can better tell 
what is justly due to an offended or an offending person than 
those who hear all the particulars of the individual case. This 


Chap. 10. 


COURT OF CHANCERY. 


405 


objection, which it is evident can never be got over, is practically 
felt and acknowledged. Every relaxation of a strict adherence to 
the law, every concession of discretionary power to juries or to 
courts, is an acknowledgment of the inherent inadequacy and im¬ 
propriety of fixed rules. You perceive that no fixed rules can 
define and discriminate justly for specific cases. Multiply them 
as you may, the gradations in the demands for equitable decision 
will multiply yet faster ; so that you are forced at last to concede 
something to equity, though perhaps there has not hitherto been 
conceded enough. Our Court of Chancery was originally, and 
still is called, a Court of Equity,—the erection of which court is 
paying a sort of tacit homage to equity as superior to law, and 
making a sort of tacit acknowledgment how imperfect and ineffi¬ 
cient the fundamental principles of fixed law are. It is perhaps 
a subject of regret that this court is now a court of equity rather 
in name than in fact. It proceeds, in a great degree, according 
to the rule of precedent,—one of the principal differences between 
its practical character and that of legal courts being, that in one a 
jury decides questions, and in the other, a judge. 

And after all, the fixedness of the law is much less in practice 
than in theory. We all know how various and contradictory are 
the “ opinions” of legal men ; so that a person may present his 
il case” to three or four able lawyers in succession, and receive 
from each a different answer. Nay, if several should agree when 
they are applied to as judges in the case, it is found, when a 
person comes into court, that counsel can find legal arguments, 
and unanswerable arguments too, on both sides of the question,— 
till at last the question is decided not by a fixed law, but by a 
preponderance of weight of conflicting precedents. Indeed the 
unfixedness of the law is practically so great, that common fame 
has made it a proverb. 

Another inconvenience which is inseparable from the use of 
fixed rules is, that they almost preclude a court from attending 
sufficiently to one very important point in the administration of 
justice, the intention of offending parties. Law says, if a man 
steals another person’s watch, under such and such circumstances, 
he shall receive such and such a punishment. Yet the guilt of 
two men who steal watches under the same visible circumstances, 
is often totally disproportionate; and this disproportion indicates 
the propriety of corresponding gradations of penalty. Yet fixed 


406 


INADEQUACY OF FIXED LAWS. 


Essay 3 . 


law awards the same penalty to both. If it is said that a court may 
take intention and motives into the account in its sentence;— 
so it may; but in whatever degree it does this, in the same degree 
it acknowledges the incompetency and inaptitude of fixed laws. 

“ The motives and intentions of the parties.” When we con¬ 
sider that the personal guilt of a man depends more upon these 
than upon his simple acts, and consequently that these rather than 
his acts indicate his deserts, it appears desirable that human 
tribunals should measure their punishments as much by a refer¬ 
ence to actual deserts as is consistent with the public good. I 
would not undertake to affirm that the guilt of the offender -is, to 
us, the ultimate standard of just punishment, because it may be 
necessary to the prevention of crimes, that of two offences equal 
in guilt, one should be punished more severely than another, on 
account of the greater facilities for its commission,—that is, on 
account of the greater impracticability of guarding against the 
offence, or of detecting the offender after it is committed. But, 
in speaking of the propriety of adverting to intention, this is not 
the point in view. I speak not of the difference between two 
classes of crimes but of the actual motives, inducements, and 
temptations of the individual offender. Stealing five pounds 
worth of property in sheep, although it may be no more vicious, 
as an act, than stealing a five-pound note from the person, may 
perhaps be rightly visited with a severer punishment. This is 
one thing. But two men may each steal a sheep with very dif¬ 
ferent degrees of personal guilt. This is another. And this is 
the point of which we speak. A man who is able to maintain 
himself in respectability, but will not apply himself to an honest 
occupation ; who lives by artifices, or frauds, or thefts, or gambling, 
or contracting debts, watches night after night an opportunity to 
carry off sheep from an inclosure. He succeeds, and spends the 
value in drunkenness or at a bagnio. A man of decent character 
who, in a period of distress, endeavours in vain to procure employ¬ 
ment or bread; who pawns, day after day, his furniture, his 
clothing, his bed, to obtain food for his children and his wife; who 
finds, at last, that all is gone and that hunger continues its de¬ 
mands,—passes a sheep field. The thought of robbing starts 
suddenly before him, and he as suddenly executes it. He carries 
home the meat, and is found by the police hastily cutting slices 
for his voracious family. Ought these two men to receive the 


Chap. 10 . 


SECURITY OF PROPERTY. 


407 


same punishment] It is impossible. Justice, common sense, 
Christianity forbid it. We cannot urge, in such cases, that 
human tribunals, being unable to penetrate the secret motives of 
action, must leave it to the Supreme Being to apportion punish¬ 
ment, strictly, to guilt. We can discover, though not the exact 
amount of guilt, a great deal of difference between its degrees. We 
do actually know, that of two persons who commit the same crime, 
one is often much more criminal than another. And were it not 
that our jurisprudence habituates us so much to refer simply to 
acts , we might know much more than we do. We are often ignorant 
of motives only because we do not inquire for them. A law says, 
“ If any person shall enter a field and steal a sheep or horse 
he shall suffer death;” and so, when a court comes to try a man 
charged with the act, they perhaps scarcely think of any other 
consideration than whether he stole the animal or not. Of ten 
who do thus steal, no two probably deserve exactly the same 
punishment; and some, undoubtedly, deserve much less than 
others. 

Discrimination then is necessary to the demands alike of 
humanity, and reason, and religion. But how shall sufficient 
discrimination be exercised under a system of fixed laws ] If the 
decisions of courts must be regulated by the acts of the offender, 
how shall they take into account those endless gradations of per¬ 
sonal desert, to refer to which is a sine qua non of the adminis¬ 
tration of justice 1 Now, in order to satisfy these demands, courts 
must by some means be entrusted with a greater discretionary 
power;—or which is the same thing, decisions upon maxims of 
equity must in a greater degree take the place of decisions regu¬ 
lated by law. 

The next great objection is, that to place, for example, men’s 
property at the discretion of a court of equity that was not bound 
down by fixed rules, would make the possession of every man’s pro¬ 
perty uncertain. Nobody would know whether the estate which 
he and his fathers enjoyed, might not to-morrow, by the decision 
of some court of equity, be taken away. But this supposes that 
the decisions of these courts would be arbitrary and capricious ; 
whereas the supposition upon which we set out,—the supposition 
upon which alone we reason, is, that means can be devised by which 
their decisions shall be generally at least accordant with rectitude. 
They must deviate very widely from rectitude if they took a wav 



408 


INCREASE OF 


Essay 3 . 


a man’s estate without some reason which appeared to them to be 
good; and it could hardly appear to be good, on a full hearing of 
the case, unless the merits of that case were very questionable :— 
but in proportion to that questionableness would be the smallness 
of the grievance if the estate were taken away. Let any man 
suppose a case for himself:—he possesses a house to which no 
one ever disputed his title, till some person chooses to bring his 
title before a court of equity,—of the members of which court the 
possessor nominates one half: does any man in his senses sup¬ 
pose that the property would be endangered 1 or rather, does any 
man suppose that a person would be foolish enough to call the 
title in question ]—But we must repeat the other alternative. If 
a person holds an estate by a decision of law which he would not 
have held by a decision of rectitude, we do not listen to his com¬ 
plaints though it be taken away. It is just what we desire. 

It has been contended, that to depart further from the system of 
deciding by law, would tend to the increase of litigation; that 
nothing prevents litigation so much as previous certainty of the 
rule of decision; and that if instead of this certainty, the decision 
of a court were left to a species of chance, there would be litigation 
without end. But in this argument it is not sufficiently considered, 
that previous certainty of the rule of decision is very imperfectly 
possessed,—that, as we have just been observing, the law is not 
fixed; and consequently, that that discouragement of litigation 
which would arise out of previously known rules, very imperfectly 
operates. Nor again, is it enough considered, that the decision of 
a court of equity, if properly constituted, would not be a matter of 
chance, nor any thing that is like it. Though a legal rule would 
not bind a court, still it would be bound,—bound by the dictates— 
commonly the very intelligible dictates—of right and wrong. 
“ Reason,” it has been said “ is a thousand times more explicit 
and intelligible than law;”—and if reason were not more intelli¬ 
gible, still the moral judgments in the mind assuredly are.— 
Again, many causes are now brought into court not because they 
are morally good but legally good. Of this the contending parties 
are often conscious, and they would therefore be conscious that a 
court which regulated its decisions by the moral qualities of a case, 
would decide against them. At present , when a man contemplates 
a lawsuit, he has to judge as well as he can of the probability 
of success, by inquiring into the rules of law and decisions of 


Chap. 10 . 


LITIGATION—DELAYS. 


409 


former cases. If a court of equity were to be the judge, he would 
have to appeal to a much nearer and more determinate ground of 
probability,—to his own consciousness of the justness of his cause. 
We are therefore to set the discouragement of litigation, which 
arises from this source, against that which arises from the supposed 
fixedness of law; and I am disposed to conclude, that in a well 
constituted court this discouragement would be practically the 
greater. Another point is this: It is unhappily certain, that 
either the ignorance or the cupidity of some legal men prompts 
many to engage in lawsuits who have little even of legal reason to 
hope for success. This cause of litigation equity would do away : 
a lawyer would not be applied to, for a lawyer would have no 
better means of foreseeing the probable decision of a court of 
equity than another man. 

Here, too, it is to be remembered that the great, what if I say 
the crying evils of the present state of legal practice, result from 
—the employment of fixed laws. It has indeed been acknow¬ 
ledged by an advocate of these laws, that they “ erect the practice 
of the law into a separate profession.” 1 Now suppose all the 
evils, all the expenses, all the disposition to litigation and dispute, 
all the practical injustice, which results from this profession were 
done away,—would not the benefit be very great] Would it 
not be a great advantage to the quiet, and the pockets, and the 
virtue of the nation ] I regard this one circumstance as forming 
a recommendation of equity so powerful, that serious counter¬ 
balancing evils must be urged to overcome its weight. Even to 
the political economist the dissolution or great diminution of the 
profession is of some importance. I am no proficient in his 
science; but it requires little proficiency to discover, that the 
existence of a large number of persons who not only contribute 
little to the national prosperity but often deduct from it, is no 
trifling evil in a state. But it is not simply as it respects the pro¬ 
fession that fixed laws are thus injurious. They are the great 
ultimate occasion of those obstacles to the attainment of justice 
which are felt to be a grievance in almost all civilized nations. 
The delays and the expenses, and the undefined annoyances of 
vexation and disappointment., deter many from seeking their just 
rights. Delays are occasioned in a great degree by forms; and 
forms are a part of the system of fixed laws :—Expenses are 
1 Paley: Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 8. 


410 


EXPENSES—FIXED LAWS, &c. 


Essay 3 . 


entailed by the necessity of complying with these forms, and of 
employing those persons whose knowledge is requisite to tell us 
what those forms are; and the acquisition of this knowledge 
requires so much time and care, that he who imparts it must be 
well paid. As to indeterminate vexations and disappointments, 
they too result principally from the fixedness of rules. A man 
with a cause of unquestioned rectitude is too often denied justice 
on account of the intervention of some absolute rule—that has little 
or no relevance to the question of rectitude. Persons fearing these 
various evils, decline to endeavour the attainment of their just 
rights,—rights which, if equity were in a greater degree substi¬ 
tuted for law, would be of comparatively easy attainment. 

The reader can hardly too vigorously impress upon his mind 
the consideration, that the various sacrifices of rectitude which 
are made under colour of the legality of people’s claims, result 
from the system of fixed laws. If to avail one-self of an inform¬ 
ality in a will to defraud the claims of justice be wrong,—the evil 
and the temptation is to be laid at the door of fixed law. If an 
undoubted criminal escapes justice merely because he cannot 
legally be convicted, the evil—which is serious—is to be laid at 
the door of fixed law. And so of a hundred other cases,—cases 
of which the aggregate ill consequence is so great, as to form a 
weighty objection to whatever system may occasion them. 

I make little distinction between deciding by fixed law and by 
precedents, because the principles of both are the same, and both, 
it is probable, will stand or fall together. Precedents are laws— 
but of somewhat less absolute authority; which indeed they 
ought to be, since they are made by courts of justice and not by 
the legislature. They are a sort of supplemental statutes, which 
attempt to supply (what however can never be supplied) the 
deficiencies of fixed laws. A statute is a general rule; a prece¬ 
dent prescribes a case in which that rule shall be observed ; but a 
thousand cases still arise which neither statute nor precedent can 
reach. 

So habitual is become our practice of judging questions rather 
by a previously made rule than by their proper merits, that even 
the house of lords, which is the highest court of equity in the 
state, searches out, when a question is brought before it, its pre¬ 
cedents ! Long debates ensue upon the parallelism of decisions a 
century or two ago; when, if the merits of the case only were 


PRECEDENTS.—VERDICTS. 


411 


Chap. 10. 


regarded, perhaps not an hour would be spent in the decision. 
Then the house is cramped and made jealous lest its present vote 
should be a precedent for another decision fifty years to come. 
New debates are started as to the bearing of the precedent upon 
some imagined question in after times; and at last the decision 
is regulated perhaps as much by fears of distant consequences, 
as by a regard to present rectitude. Do away precedents and 
the house might pursue, unshackled the dictate of Virtue. And 
after all, when precedents are sought and found, the house usually 
acts upon the opinion of its legal members,—thus subverting the 
very nature of a court of equity. It would seem the rational and 
consistent course, that in the house of lords, when it constitutes 
such a court, the law lords should be almost the last to give a 
sentiment; for if it be to be decided by lawyers, to what purpose 
is it brought, to the house of peers 1 

And another inconvenience of fixed law—or at any rate of fixed 
laws such as ours are—is, that in cases of criminal trials the jury 
are bound down, as we have before noticed, to an absolute verdict 
either to acquit the prisoner of all crime and exempt him from all 
punishment, or to declare that he is guilty and leave him to the 
sentence of the court. Now since many verdicts are founded 
upon a balance of probabilities,—probabilities which leave the 
juror’s mind uncertain of the prisoner’s guilt, it would seem the 
dictate of reason that corresponding verdicts should be given. If 
it is quite certain that a man has stolen a watch, it seems reason¬ 
able that he should receive a greater punishment than he of whom 
it is only highly probable that he has stolen it. But the verdict 
in each case is the same,—till, as the probability diminishes, the 
minds of the jury at last preponderate on the other side, and they 
pronounce an absolute verdict of acquittal. From this state of 
things it happens that some are punished more severely than the 
amount of probability warrants, and that many are not punished 
at all, because there is no alternative to the jury between absolute 
acquittal and absolute conviction. Now the imperfection of hu¬ 
man judgment, the impossibility of penetrating always into the 
real facts and motives of men, indicates that some penalties may 
justly be awarded even though a court entertains doubts of a 
prisoner’s guilt. Man must doubt because he cannot know. We 
may rightly therefore proceed upon probabilities and punish upon 
probabilities; so that we should not wholly exempt a man from 



412 


LEGAL PROOF.—PARDONS. 


Essay 3 . 


punishment because we are not sure that he is guilty, nor inflict a 
certain stipulated amount of it because we are only strongly per¬ 
suaded that he is. Punishment may rightly then be regulated by 
probabilities: but how shall this be done without a large discre¬ 
tionary power in those who judge 1 And how shall such discre¬ 
tionary power be exercised whilst we act upon the maxims of 
fixed law ] 

The requisition of what is called legal proof is one result of 
fixed law that is attended with much evil. It not unfrequently 
happens, that a man who claims a right adduces such evidence of 
its validity that the court—'that every man—is convinced he ought 
to possess it: but there is some deficiency in that precise kind of 
proof which the law prescribes; and so in deference to law, justice 
is turned away. It is the same with crimes. Crimes are some¬ 
times proved to the satisfaction of every one who hears the evi¬ 
dence ; but because there is some "want of strict legal proof, the 
criminal is again turned loose upon society. Such things, deci¬ 
sions founded upon equity would do away. All that the court 
would require would be a satisfactory conviction of the prisoner’s 
guilt or of the claimant’s rights; and having obtained that satis¬ 
faction, it would decide accordingly. 

Here, too, a consideration is suggested respecting the preroga¬ 
tive which is vested in the crown of pardoning offenders. The crown, 
if any, is doubtless the right repository of this prerogative; but it is 
not obvious, upon principles of equity, that any repository is right. 
If an offender deserves punishment, he ought to receive it,—and 
if he does not deserve it, no sentence ought to be passed upon 
him. This, of which the truth is very obvious, simply considered, 
is only untrue when you introduce fixed laws. These fixed laws 
require you to deliver a verdict, and when it is delivered, to pass 
a sentence;—and then, finding your sentence is improper or 
unjust, you are obliged to go to a court of equity to remedy the 
evil. Why should we pass a sentence if it is not deserved] 
Why is a sentence the indispensable consequence of a verdict ] 
Why rather is a formal verdict pronounced at all ] There appears 
in the view of equity no need for all these forms. What we want 
is to assign to an offender his due punishment;—and when no 
other is assigned, there is no need for prerogatives of pardon. 

Proceeding then upon the conviction that law as distinguished 
from justice is attended with many evils, let us inquire whether 



Chap. 10 . 


ARBITRATION.—PALEY. 


413 


the obstacles to decisions by considerations of j nstice are insuper¬ 
able. Now I do believe that many of the objections which suggest 
themselves to an inquirer’s mind are really adventitious,—that 
the administration of simple justice may be detached from many of 
those inconveniences which attach no doubt to ill-constituted discre¬ 
tionary courts.—So confident has been the objection to decisions 
upon rules of equity, that Dr. Paley, in the eighth chapter of the 
Political division of his Philosophy, has these words : “ The first 
maxim of a free state is, that the laws be made by one set of men 
and administered by another.—When these offices are united in 
the same person or assembly, particular laws are made for parti¬ 
cular cases, springing oftentimes from partial motives, and di¬ 
rected to private ends” But if these partial motives and private 
ends can be wholly or in a great degree excluded, the objection 
which is founded upon them is in a great degree or wholly at an 
end. If these offices were united in any person or assembly, 
appointed or constituted as the administerers of justice now are, I 
doubt not that partial motives and private ends would prevail. 
But the necessity for this is merely assumed; and upon this 
assumption Paley proceeds : “ Let it be supposed that the courts 
of Westminster Hall made their own laws, or that the two houses 
of parliament, with the king at their head, tried and decided 
causes at their bar,”—then, he says, the inclinations of the judges 
would inevitably attach on one side or the other, and would 
interfere with the integrity of justice. No doubt this would hap¬ 
pen ;—but because this would happen to the courts of Westminster 
Hall, or to the legislative assemblies, it does not follow that 
it would happen to all arbitrators however appointed.—Thus it is 
that the mind, habitually associating ideas which may reasonably 
be separated, founds its conclusions, not upon the proper and 
essential merits of the question, but upon the question as it is 
accidentally brought before it. The proper ground on which to 
seek objections to decision on rules of equity, is not in the want of 
adaptation of present judicial institutions, but on the impractica¬ 
bility of framing institutions in which these rules might safely 
prevail; and this impracticability has never, so far as the writer 
knows, been shown. 

Now, without assigning the extent to which arbitration may 
eventually take place of law, or the degree in which it may be 
adopted in the present state of any country, it may be asked,— 


414 


COURTS OF ARBITRATION. 


Essay 3 . 


Since a large number of disagreements are actually settled by 
arbitration, that is by rules of equity, why may not that number 
be greatly increased ? It is common in cases of partnership and 
other agreements between several parties, to stipulate that if a 
difference arises it shall be settled by arbitrators. It must be 
presumed that this mode of settling is regarded as the best, else 
why formally stipulate for it ] The superiority too must be dis¬ 
covered by experience. It is then in fact found that a great num¬ 
ber of questions of property and other concerns, are settled more 
cheaply and more satisfactorily by equity than by law. Why 
then, we repeat, may not that number be indefinitely increased, or 
who will assign a limit to its increase 1—Now the constitution of 
these efficient courts of equity, is not permanent. They are not 
composed of judges previously appointed to decide all disputes. 
They are not composed, as the courts of Westminster Hall are, or 
as the houses of parliament are, or as benches of magistrates are. 
If they were, they would be open to the undue influence and pri¬ 
vate purposes of those who composed them. But the members 
of these courts are appointed by the disputants themselves, or by 
some party to whom they mutually agree to commit the appoint¬ 
ment. Supposing then the worst, that the disputing parties ap¬ 
point men who are interested in their favours; still the balance is 
equal:—both may do the same. The court is not influenced by 
undue motives, though its members are; and if in consequence of 
such motives or of any other cause the court cannot agree upon a 
verdict, what do they do 1 They appoint an umpire, or which is 
the same thing, the disputants appoint one. This umpire must be 
presumed to be impartial; for otherwise the disputants would not 
both have assented to his appointment. At the worst , then, an 
impartial decision may be confidently hoped; and what may not 
be hoped under better circumstances'?—It is, I believe, common 
for disagreeing parties to nominate at once, disinterested and up¬ 
right men; and if they do this, and take care too that they shall 
be intelligent men, almost every thing is done which is in the 
power of man, to secure a just decision between them. 

Disinterestedness,—uprightness,—intelligence : —these are the 
qualities which are needed in an arbitrator. That he should be 
disinterested; that is, that he should possess no motive to prefer 
the interests of either party, is obviously indispensable. But this 
is not enough. Other motives than interest operate upon some 



Chap. 10. AN EXTENDED SYSTEM OF ARBITRATION. 415 

men; and there is no sufficient security for the integrity of a de¬ 
cision, but in that habitual uprightness in the arbitrator by which 
the sanctions of morality are exercised and made influential. The 
requisiteness of intelligence, both as it implies competent talent 
and competent knowledge, is too manifest for remark. 

Now one of the great objections which are made to a judicature 
appointed for the decision of one dispute, and that one only, is, 
“ tbe want of legal science,”—“the ignorance of those who are to 
decide upon our rights.” 1 This objection applies in great force to 
ordinary juries, but it scarcely applies at all to intelligent arbi¬ 
trators properly selected,—and not applying, we are at liberty to 
claim in favour of arbitration without abatement, that “indiffer- 
ency,” that “integrity,” that “disinterestedness,” which it is al¬ 
lowed that a casual judicature possesses. 

Men become skilful by habit and experience. The man who is 
now selected for the first time in his life to exercise the office of 
an arbitrator, feels perhaps some difficulties. He is introduced 
into a new situation in society; and like other novices it is not 
unlikely that he will be under difficulties respecting his decision. 
But if the system of arbitration should become as common as 
lawsuits are now, men would soon learn expertness in the duties 
of arbitrators. If in a moderate town there were twelve or 
twenty men, whose characters and knowledge recommended them 
generally, and especially to the confidence of their neighbours,— 
these are the men who would be selected to adjust their disputes. 
And even if the same individuals were not often employed, the 
habit of judging, a familiarity with such matters, becomes diffused, 
just as every other species of knowledge becomes,diffused upon 
subjects that are common in the world. 

Another ground of difficulty to an arbitrator in the present 
state of things is the habit, which is so general in the community, 
of referring for justice to rules of law. A man when he enters an 
arbitration room, is continually referring in his mind to law books 
and precedents. This is likely to confuse his principles of deci¬ 
sion, to intermix foreign things with one another, and to produce 
sometimes perhaps a decision founded half upon law and half upon 
justice. This may indeed occasionally be in some sort imposed 
upon him,—at least he would feel a hesitation, a sort of repug¬ 
nance to deliver a decision which was absolutely contrary to the 
1 Paley: Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 7. 


416 AN EXTENDED SYSTEM OF ARBITRATION. Essay 3. 


rule of law. But this inconvenience is in a great degree acci¬ 
dental and factitious. As the principles of equity assumed their 
proper dominance in the adjustment of disputes, fixed laws would 
proportionably decline in influence and in their practical hold upon 
the minds of men. Their judgments would gradually become 
emancipated from this species of shackle;—they would rise, dis¬ 
encumbered of arbitrary maxims, and decide according to those 
maxims of moral equity for the dictates of which no man has far 
to seek. The whole system tends to the invigoration and eleva¬ 
tion of the mind. A man who is conscious of an absolute authority 
to decide,—of an uncontrolled discretionary power, in a question 
perhaps of important interests, is animated by the moral eminence 
of his station to exert a vigorous and honourable endeavour to 
award sound justice. You are not to expect in such a man, what 
we find in arbitrary judges, that his very absoluteness will make 
him capricious and tyrannical; for the moment he has pronounced 
his decision, a calamity, if that decision have been unjust, awaits 
him;—the reprobation of his neighbours, of his friends, and of 
the public. The exercise of his discretion is bound to the side of 
uprightness, though not by ordinary pains and penalties, yet by 
virtual pains and penalties, which to such men as are chosen for 
arbitrators are amongst the most powerful that can be applied. 

One thing is indispensable to an extended system of arbitra¬ 
tion, that the civil magistrate should sanction its decisions by a 
willing enforcement of the verdict. It is usual for disputants who 
refer to arbitrators to sign an agreement to abide by their deci¬ 
sion ; and this agreement may by some simple process of law be 
enforced. The law does indeed now sanction arbitrations; but 
then it is in a formal and expensive way. A deed is drawn up, 
and a stamp must be affixed, and a solicitor must be employed;— 
so that at last the disagreeing parties do but partly reap the bene¬ 
fits of arbitration. This should be remedied. The reader will 
observe that I say law is wanted to enforce the decisions of equity. 
No doubt it is. It is wanted for the same reason as government 
is wanted, to exert power, which power, it is evident, must be 
exercised by the government. But if any critic should say that 
this acknowledges the insufficiency of equity, I answer, that we 
are speaking of unconnected things. The business of equity is 
to decide between right and wrong, and to say what is right,—with 
which the infliction of penalties or the enforcement of decisions 




Chap. 10. APPLICABILITY OF COURTS OF EQUITY, &c. 417 


has no concern. A court and jury say that a man shall be sent 
for six months to a prison, but it forms no part of their business 
to execute the sentence. 

With respect to the applicability of courts of equity to criminal 
trials, I see nothing that necessarily prevents it. Men who can 
judge respecting matters of property and personal rights, can 
judge respecting questions of innocence and guilt. In one view, 
indeed, they can judge more easily; because moral desert is de¬ 
terminable upon more simple and obvious principles, than claims 
of property. Many who would feel much difficulty in deciding 
involved disputes about money or land, would feel none in deter¬ 
mining, with sufficient accuracy, the degree of an offender’s guilt. 

It being manifest then that offences against the peace of society 
may be as properly referred to courts of equity as questions of 
right,—what should be the constitution of such a court'? But 
here the reader is to remember, that the objection is not merely or 
principally to the constitution of present courts, but to the princi¬ 
ples of fixed law upon which justice is administered. So that, if 
principles of equity were substituted, the constitution of the court 
would become a secondary concern; and courts consisting of a 
jury and a judge might not be bad, though they were not the best. 
If half a dozen intelligent and upright men could be appointed to 
examine the truth of charges against a prisoner, and if they were 
allowed to award a just punishment, I should have little fear, after 
making allowances for the frailties of humanity, that their penal¬ 
ties would generally be just;—at any rate that they would be more 
accordant with justice than penalties which are regulated by fixed 
law. The difficulty is in procuring the arbitrators, a difficulty 
greater than that which obtains in cases of private fight. For in 
the first place, offenders against the peace of society generally ex¬ 
cite the feelings of the public, and especially of the neighbourhood 
against them. Men too often prejudge cases, and the prisoner is 
frequently condemned in the public mind before any evidence has 
been brought before a jury. This indicates a difficulty in select¬ 
ing impartial men. And then in the case of arbitrations, each 
party chooses one or more of the judges. Shall the same privi¬ 
lege be allowed to persons charged with crime 1 If it were, would 
they not select persons who would frustrate all the endeavours to 
administer justice 1 Besides, where is the conflicting party who 
shall be equally interested in appointing arbitrators of opposite 

2 E 


418 CONSTITUTION OF COURTS OF ARBITRATION. Essay 3. 

dispositions ] And if both did appoint such, what is the hope of 
a temperate and rational decision] Again, there are offences 
which are regarded with peculiar severity by particular classes of 
men. A court composed of country gentlemen, would hardly 
award a fair verdict against a poacher. 

These considerations and others indicate difficulty; and perhaps 
the difficulty cannot better be avoided than by a court selected by 
chance. In the selection of juries there have recently been intro¬ 
duced improvements. Still, if equity rather than law is to be 
regarded, something more is needed. Now , though a jury be 
ignorant, the judge is learned : and a learned judge is indispensa¬ 
ble where law is to be applied. But if simple justice be the ob¬ 
ject, such a judge becomes comparatively little requisite:—yet, 
when we have dispensed with the intelligence of the judge, we 
must provide for greater intelligence in the jury. A jury from the 
lower classes of the community may serve with tolerable suffici¬ 
ency the purposes of justice in the present system; but if they 
were converted from jurymen into arbitrators, much more of in¬ 
telligence, and we may add, much more of elevation of character, 
is required. To endeavour to obtain this intelligence and upright¬ 
ness by a mode of chance selection must always be very uncertain 
of success. If those who were eligible for this species of jury, 
were obliged to possess a certain qualification in point of pro¬ 
perty ; if, of those who were thus eligible, a competent number 
were selected by ballot; and if the prisoner and the prosecutor 
were allowed a large right of challenge, perhaps every thing w r ould 
be done which is in the power of man. 

The number of arbitrators who form a court of equity should 
always be small. Large numbers effect less good by accumulating 
wisdom, than harm by putting off patient investigation to one 
another, and by “ dividing the shame” of a partial decision. 

The members of such courts, though capable of deciding with 
competent propriety on questions of right and wrong when facts 
are laid before them, may be incapable, from w T ant of habit, of 
eliciting those facts from reluctant or partial witnesses. Now I 
perceive no reason why, both in criminal and civil courts, a per¬ 
son could not be employed, whose profession it was to elicit the 
truth. Is he to be a pleader or an advocate ? No. The very 
name is sufficient to discredit the office in the view of pure mo¬ 
rality. One professional man only should be employed. That 


Chap. 10. SYSTEM OF ARBITRATION—EFFECTS. 


419 


one should be employed by neither party separately, but by both, 
or by the state. It should be his simple and sole business to elicit 
the truth, and to elicit it from the witnesses of both sides. Secu¬ 
rities against corruption in this man, are obviously as easy as in 
arbitrators themselves. The judges of England evince, in general, 
an admirable example of impartiality; and as to corruptness it is 
almost unknown. What reason is there for questioning that officers 
such as we speak of, may not be incorrupt and impartial too 1 If 
handsome remuneration be necessary, to secure them from undue 
influence and to maintain the dignity of their office, let them by all 
means have it. Even in a present court of law or justice,—suppose 
the examination of witnesses was taken from barristers and con¬ 
ducted by the judge, does not every man perceive that the truth 
might be elicited by one interrogator of the witnesses of both par¬ 
ties ] And does not every one perceive that such an interrogator 
would elicit it in a far more upright and manly way, than is now 
the case 1 Pleading is a thing which, in the administration of 
justice, ought not to be so much as named. 

Bearing along in our minds then the inconveniences and the evils 
of Fixed Laws,—let us suppose that a circuit was taken, and that 
courts were held from which the application of fixed law was, so 
far as is practicable, excluded. Suppose these courts to consist 
of three or five or seven men, selected according to the utmost 
skill of precautionary measures, for their intelligence and upright¬ 
ness, and of one, publicly authorized and dignified person, whose 
office it should be to assist the court in the discovery of the truth. 
Suppose that, when the facts of the case, and as far as possible 
the motives and intentions of the parties, were laid open, these 
three, or five, or seven men, pronounced a decision as accordant 
as they could do with the immutable principles of right and wrong, 
and excluding almost all reference to fixed laws, and precedents, 
and technicalities;—is it not probable, is it not reasonable, to 
expect that the purposes of justice would be more effectually 
answered than they are at present 1 And even if justice was not 
better administered would not such a system exclude various ex¬ 
isting evils connected with legal institutions, evils so great as to 
be real calamities to the state 1 

Perhaps it is needless to remark, that all courts of equity which 
are recognized by the state should be public. Individuals who 
refer their disputes to private arbitrators may have them privately 


420 


SOME ALTERATIONS SUGGESTED. 


Essay 3. 


adjusted if they please. But publicity is a powerful means of 
securing that impartiality which it is the first object in the admi¬ 
nistration of justice to secure. 

There is one advantage, collateral indeed to the administration 
of equity, but not therefore the less considerable, that it would 
have a strong tendency to diffuse sound ideas of justice in the 
public mind. As it is, it may unhappily be affirmed that courts 
of judicature spread an habitual confusion of ideas upon the sub¬ 
ject; and what is worse, very frequently inculcate that as just 
which is really the contrary. Our notions of a court of judicature 
are, or they ought to be, that it is a place sacred to justice. But 
when, superinduced upon this notion, it is the fact, that by very 
many of its decisions justice is put into the back ground; that 
law is elevated into supremacy; that the technicalities of forms, 
and the finesse of pleaders, triumph over the decisions of rectitude 
in the mind,—the effect cannot be otherwise than bad. It cannot 
do otherwise than confound, in the public mind, notions of good 
and evil, and teach them to think that every thing is virtuous 
which courts of justice sanction.—If, instead of this, the public 
were habituated to a constant appeal to equity, and to a constant 
conformity to its dictates, the effect would be opposite, and there¬ 
fore good. Justice would stand prominently forward to the public 
view as the object of reverence and regard. The distinctions 
between equity and injustice would become, by habit, broad and 
defined. Instead of confounding the public ideas of morality, a 
.court of judicature would teach, very powerfully teach, discrimi¬ 
nation. A court, seriously endeavouring to discover the decision 
of justice, and uprightly awarding it between man and man, would 
be a spectacle of which the moral influence could not be lost upon 
the people. 


In thus recommending the application of pure moral principles 
in the administration of justice, the writer does not presume to 
define how far the present condition of human virtue may capaci¬ 
tate a legislature to exchange fixed rules of decision for the im¬ 
partial judgments of upright men. That it may be done to a 
much greater extent than it is now done, he entertains no doubt. 
A legislature might perhaps begin with that pernicious species of 
arbitrary rules which consists of technicalities and forms. To 
deny justice to a man because he has not claimed it in a specific 





Chap. 10. TECHNICALITIES.—USELESS LAWS. 


421 


form of words, or because some legal inaccuracy has been com¬ 
mitted in the proceedings, must always disapprove itself to the 
plain judgments of mankind. Begin then with the most palpable 
and useless rules. Whatever can be dispensed with, it is a sa¬ 
cred duty to abolish, and every act of judicious abolition will faci¬ 
litate the abolition of others:—it will prepare the public mind for 
the contemplation of purer institutions, and gradually enable it to 
adopt those institutions in the national practice. 

As to the particular modes of securing the administration of 
simple justice, the writer would say, that those which he has sug¬ 
gested he has suggested with deference. His business is rather 
with the principles of sound political institutions than with the 
form and mode of applying them to practice. Other and better 
means than he has suggested are probably to be found. The can¬ 
did reader will acknowledge, that in advocating institutions so 
different from those which actually obtain, the political moralist is 
under peculiar difficulties and disadvantages. The best machinery 
of social institutions is discovered rather from experience than 
from reasoning; and upon this machinery in the present instance, 
experience has thrown little light. 


Here, as in some other parts of this work, the reader will observe that alterations 
are proposed and improvements suggested which have been actually adopted since 
these Essays were written. Our courts, and also the legislature, have lately paid 
some attention to the modes in which public justice is administered. As yet the al¬ 
terations which have been made are chiefly confined to the criminal laws: but our 
judges are now beginning to exert the discretionary power which is vested in them, 
in preventing the course of justice from being, so frequently as it heretofore has been, 
intercepted by technicalities and verbal inaccuracy. Of this the public had lately 
an instance in the cause of Gulley, v. the Bishop of Exeter. A Parliamentary 
Commission has been appointed and is now sitting, whose object it is to devise 
improvements in the practice of our courts of judicature. Ed. 



CHAPTER XI. 


OF THE PROPER SUBJECTS OF PENAL ANIMADVERSION. 

The man who compares the actions which are denounced as 
wrong in the Moral Law with those which are punished by civil 
government, will find that they are far from an accordance. The 
Moral Law declares many actions to be wicked which human in¬ 
stitutions do not punish; and there are some that these institutions 
punish, of which there is no direct reprehension in the communi¬ 
cated will of God. 

It is not easy to refer all these incongruities to the application 
of any one general principle of discrimination. You cannot say 
that the magistrate adverts only to those crimes which are perni¬ 
cious to society,—for all crimes are pernicious. Nor can you say 
that he selects the greatest for his animadversion, because he 
punishes many of which the guilt is incomparably less than others 
which he passes by. Nor again, can you say that he punishes 
only those in which there is an injured and complaining party; 
for he punishes some of which all the parties were voluntary 
agents. Lastly,—and what seems at first view very extraordinary, 
—we find that civil governments create offences, which, simply 
regarded, have no existence in the view of morality; and punish 
them with severity, whilst others, unquestionably immoral, pass 
with impunity. 

The practical rule which appears to be regarded in the selection 
of offences for punishment, is founded upon the existing circum¬ 
stances of the community- 

Offences against which, from any cause, the public disapproba¬ 
tion is strongly directed, are usually visited by the arm of the 
civil magistrate,—partly because that disapprobation implies that 
the offence disturbs the order of society, and partly because, in 
the case of such offences, penal animadversion is efficient and 
vigorous, by the ready co-operation of the public. Thus it is 



Chap. 11. CRIMES AS THEY ARE REGARDED, &c. 423 

with almost all offences against property, and with those which 
personally injure or alarm us. Every man is desirous of prose¬ 
cuting a housebreaker, for he feels that his own house ma}' be' 
robbed. Every man is desirous of punishing an assault or a 
threatening letter, because he considers that his peace may be 
disturbed by the one and his person injured by the other. This 
general and strong reprobation makes detection comparatively easy, 
and punishment efficient. 

Examples of the contrary kind are to be found in the crimes of 
drunkenness, of profane swearing, of fornication, of duelling. Not 
that we have any reason to expect that at the bar of heaven, some 
of these crimes will be at all less obnoxious to punishment than 
the former,—but because, from whatever reason, the public very 
negligently co-operate with law in punishing them, and manifest 
little desire to see its penalties inflicted. An habitual drunkard 
does much more harm to his family and to the world than he who 
picks my pocket of a guinea,—yet we raise a hue and cry after 
the thief and suffer the other to become drunk every day. So it 
is with duelling and fornication. The public know very well that 
these things are wrong, and pernicious to the general welfare; but 
scarcely any one will prosecute those who commit them. The 
magistrate may make laws, but in such a state of public feeling 
they will remain as a dead letter; or, which perhaps is as bad, be 
called out upon accidental and irregular occasions. 

Another rule which appears to be practically though not theo- 
reticall} r adopted is, to punish those offences of which there is a 
natural prosecutor. Thus it is with every kind of robbery and 
violence. Some one especially is aggrieved: the sense of griev¬ 
ances induces a ready prosecution; and whatever is readily pro¬ 
secuted by the people will generally be denounced in the laws of 
the state. The opposite fact is exhibited in the case of many 
offences against the public, such as smuggling, and generally in 
the case of all frauds upon the revenue. No individual is espe¬ 
cially aggrieved, (unless in the case of regular dealers whose 
business is injured by illicit trading,) and the consequence is 
either that numberless frauds of this kind are suffered to pass with 
impunity, or that the government is obliged to employ persons to 
detect the offenders and to prosecute them itself. There are some 
crimes which seem in this respect of an intermediate sort,—where 
there is a natural prosecutor and yet where that prosecutor is not 



424 


SEDUCTION, &c. 


Essay 3 . 


the most aggrieved person. This is instanced in the case of se¬ 
duction. The father prosecutes, hut he does net sustain one half 
the injury that is suffered by the daughter. There are obvious 
reasons why the most injured party should be at best an ineffici¬ 
ent prosecutor; and the result is consonant,—that this offence is 
frequently not punished at all, or as is the case in our own coun¬ 
try, it is punished very slightly,—so slightly that in no case does 
the person of the offender suffer. This lenity does not arise from 
the venialness of this crime, or of that of adultery. They are 
amongst the most enormous that can be perpetrated by man. Of 
the less flagitious of the two, it has been affirmed “ that not one 
half of the crimes for which men suffer death by the laws of 
England are so flagitious as this.” 1 This enormity is distinctly 
asserted in both the Old Testament and the New: in the first, 
adultery was punished with death; in the second, both this and 
fornication, which is less criminal than seduction, is repeatedly 
assorted with the greatest of crimes, and alike threatened with 
the tremendous punishments of religion. 

Such considerations lead the inquirer to expect that the offences 
which are denounced in a statute book will bear some relation to 
the state of virtue in the people. The more virtuous the people 
are the greater will be the number of crimes which can be 
efficiently visited by the arm of power. Thus, during some part 
of the seventeenth century, that is, during the interregnum, 
adultery was punished with death; and it may be remarked, 
without paying a compliment to the religion or politics of those 
times, that the actual practice of morality was then, amongst 
a large proportion of the nation, at a higher standard than it 
is now. No society exists without some species of penal justice, 
-—from that of a gang of thieves to that of a select and pious 
Christian community. The thieves will punish some crimes, but 
they will be few. The virtuous community will punish, or which 
for our present purpose is the same thing, animadvert upon, very 
many. In a well ordered family many things are held to be 
offences and are noticed as such by the parent, which in a vicious 
family pass unregarded. 

When therefore we contemplate the unnumbered offences against 
morality which the magistrate does not attempt to discourage, we 
may take comfort from hoping that as the virtue of mankind 
1 Paley : Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 3, p. 3.~— Seduction. 


Chap. 11 . 


CREATED OFFENCES. 


425 


increases, it may increase in more than a simple ratio. As the 
public become prepared for it, governments will lend their aid; 
and thus they who have now little restraint from some crimes but 
that which exists in their own minds, may hereafter be deterred 
by the fear of human penalty. And this induces the observation, 
that to throw obstacles in the way of increasing the subjects 
of penal animadversion is both impolitic and wrong. This, 
unhappily, has frequently been done in our own country. Some 
public writers, (writers not of great eminence, to be sure,) have 
taken great pains to ridicule legislation respecting cruelty to 
animals,—and the endeavours on the part of well disposed men to 
enforce almost obsolete statutes against some other common crimes. 
There are, surely, a sufficiency of obstacles to the extension of the 
subjects of penal legislation, without needlessly adding more. 
Besides, these men directly encourage the crimes. To sneer 
at him who prosecutes a ferocious man for cruelty to an animal, is 
to encourage cruelty. When a man is brought before a magistrate 
for profaneness,—to joke about how the culprit swore in the court, 
is to teach men to be profane. 


That which we have called, in the commencement of this 
chapter, the creation of offences, demands peculiar solicitude on 
the part of a government. By a created offence, I mean an act 
which, but for the law, would be no offence at all. Of this class 
are some offences against the game laws. He who on another 
continent was accustomed without blame to knock down hares and 
pheasants as he found occasion, would feel the force of this 
creation of offences when, on doing the same thing in England, he 
was carried to a jail. The most fruitful cause of these factitious 
offences is in extensive taxation. When a new tax is imposed, 
the legislature endeavours to secure its due payment by requiring 
or forbidding certain acts. These acts, which antecedently were 
indifferent, become criminal by the legislative prohibition, or 
obligatory by the legislative command; and non-compliance is 
therefore punished as an offence by the civil power. 1 There is no 
more harm in a man’s buying brandy in France and bringing it to 

1 I have somewhere met with a book which contended that to commit these 
created offences was no breach of morality. This, however, is not true, because the 
obligation to obey civil government, in its innocent enactments, is clearly stated in 
the Moral Law. 



426 


CREATED OFFENCES. 


Essay 3 . 


England than in buying a horse of his neighbour. The law lays 
a duty upon brandy, prohibits any man from bringing it to 
the country except through a custom house, and treats as cri¬ 
minals those who do. 

Now we do not affirm that those who commit these created 
offences do not absolutely offend against morality. They do offend; 
for in general every evasion or violation of the laws of the state is 
an immoral act. But this does not affect the truth that such 
offences should be as few as they can be. The reasons are, first, 
that they are encroachments upon civil liberty, and secondly— 
which is our present concern—that they are pernicious to the 
public. Men perceive the distinction between moral crimes and 
legal crimes, without perhaps ever having inquired into its 
foundation. And they act upon this perception. He who has 
been convicted of killing hares, or evading taxes, or smuggling 
lace, is commonly willing to tell you of his exploits. He who has 
been convicted of stealing from his neighbour, hangs down his 
head for shame. The sanctions of law ought to approve them¬ 
selves to the common judgments of mankind. Whatever the 
state denounces, that the public ought to feel to be criminal, 
and to be willing to suppress. The penalties of the law ought to 
be accompanied in men’s minds by the sanction of morality. They 
should feel that to be punished by a magistrate was tantamount to 
being a bad man. When, instead of this, there is an intricate 
admixture,—when we see some things which are, simply re¬ 
garded, innocent, visited by the same punishment as others that 
all men feel to be wicked, men are likely to feel a diminished 
respect for penal law itself. They learn to regard the requisitions 
of law as having little countenance from rectitude; and think that 
to violate them, though it may be dangerous, is not wrong. It 
does not approve itself, as a whole, to the public judgment; and 
there are many perhaps who feel, on this account, a diminished 
respect for penal institutions, without being able to assign the 
reason. 

In the extension of this political and moral evil the greatest of 
all agents is war. With respect to the creation of offences, 
it stands sui generis , and converts a greater number of indifferent 
actions into punishable ones, than all other agents united. War 
produces the extensive taxation of which we speak; but the 
practical system has offences peculiar to itself,—offences which 


Chap . 11 . 


ADAM SMITH.—SEDUCTION. 


427 


the Moral Law of our Creator never denounced, but which 
the system of war visits with tremendous punishments. Adam 
Smith adverts to this deplorable circumstance. He says, that the 
punishment of death to a sentinel who falls asleep upon his 
watch, " how necessary soever, always appears to he excessively 
severe. The natural atrocity of the crime seems to be so little, 
and the punishment so great, that it is with great difficulty that 
our heart can reconcile itself to it!' 1 Nor will the heart, nor 
ought the heart ever to be reconciled to it. It is, I know, 
perfectly easy to urge arguments in its favour from expediency 
and the like; but urge these arguments as you may, the un¬ 
initiated or unhardened heart will never be convinced; and it 
is vain to tell us that that is right, which the immutable dictates 
in our minds pronounce to be wrong. There are, indeed, few 
spectacles more calculated to sicken the heart and to make it turn 
in disgust away from the monstrousness of human institutions, 
than a contemplation of martial law,—a code which not only 
creates a multiplicity of offences that were never prohibited 
by our merciful Parent, but which visits the commission of those 
offences with inflictions that ought not to be so much as named 
amongst a Christian people. 

Whilst then the philanthropist hopes that some of those intrin¬ 
sically criminal actions to which human penalties are not attached, 
will one day become the object of their animadversion, he hopes 
that this other class, which are not intrinsically vicious, will gra¬ 
dually be expunged from amongst penal laws. Both the additions 
to, and the deductions from, the system which morality dictates, 
are the result of the impure or corrupt condition of society. 

Meantime some approaches to a juster standard to regulate 
penal animadversion may be made, by transferring, in our own 
country, some offences from the civil to the criminal courts. An 
instance exists in the crime of seduction and its affinities. This 
crime, whether we regard it simply or in its consequences, or in 
the deliberation with which it is committed, is, as we have just 
seen, excessively flagitious. How then does it happen that its 
perpetration is regarded as a matter for the cognizance only of 
legal courts, and for the punishment only of a pecuniary fine ? 
What should we say to that mode of justice which allowed the 
ruffian who assaults your person to escape by paying money] 

1 Theory of Moral Sentiments. 


428 


DUELLING. 


Essay 3. 


Yet even a severe assault does not approach, in enormity, to 
the crime of which we speak. I would punish seducers in their 
persons. I would send them to prison like other malefactors; 
and oblige them to labour, or subject them to that system of 
prison discipline which might give hope (if any thing could give 
hope) of reformation. Alas! if there is no reason for not acting 
thus, there is a motive. That class of society to whom the framing 
of laws is entrusted, regard the crime with but very ambiguous 
detestation. “ The law of honour,” it is said, “ applauds the 
address of a successful intrigue.” How should they who value 
themselves upon being the subjects of the law of honour wish to 
consign a man to prison for that which the law of honour ap¬ 
plauds? I doubt not that if seduction were confined to low life 
the legislature would quickly send seducers to the criminal courts. 
Would they were sent! The very idea of the punishment would, 
amongst gay men in the superior walks of life, often prevent the 
crime. To be seized by police ! To be carried to a jail! To be 
brought to the bar with thieves and murderers! To be sentenced 
by the court! To be carried back to labour in a prison, or to be 
embarked for New South Wales!—The idea I say of this would 
go far to prevent the perpetration of this abandoned crime. 

Duelling is another of the crimes which should be prosecuted in 
criminal courts. It is indeed prosecuted there if any where; but 
it is seldom prosecuted at all. The ultimate cause is easily 
discovered:—the crime is sanctioned by the law of honour. Like 
the preceding, if it were practised only by the poor, 1 it would 
quickly be visited by the arm of the law. Of the probability of 
this, we have an illustration in the case of boxing. One or more 
of the judges have recently declared, that if a man is convicted 
of having caused another’s death in a boxing match, they will 
inflict the sentence which the law denounces upon manslaughter. 
The law of honour has no voice here; and here the voice of reason 
and common sense is regarded. Make boxing-matches like duel¬ 
ling a part of the system of the law of honour, and we shall hear 
very little about the punishment of manslaughter. The reader 
saw, in the last Essay, what an influence the law of honour had in 

1 In France, it is said, and in America, duelling is descending to the inferior 
classes of society. If this should become general, we may soon reckon upon an 
efficient diminution of the practice. The rich will forbear it on account of its vulgarity, 
and they will take care to punish it when it is practised only by the poor. 



Chap. 11. 


INSOLVENTS. 


429 


a case of duelling on the mind and on the charge of a judge on the 
Scotch bench.—These things suggest sorrowful reflections! 

Much and very contradictory declamation is often employed 
respecting the treatment which is due to those who become insol¬ 
vent. By our present law the debtor may be arrested, that is, 
he may be imprisoned; on which account it may be allowable to 
range the discussion under the head of penal law. Imprisonment 
for debt is, in effect, a penalty, although it be not inflicted by a 
court of justice. 

One class of persons declaims against the oppression of im¬ 
muring men in a prison who have committed no crime; against 
the cruelty of the relentless creditor who, when misfortune has 
overtaken a fellow creature, adds to his miseries the terrors of 
the law, and deprives him of the opportunity of exertion, and his 
family of the means of support:—and all this it is said is done 
without obtaining any other advantage to the persecutor than the 
gratification of his resentment or malignity. Another class expa¬ 
tiates upon the unprincipled fraud which is committed upon 
industrious traders by spendthrifts or villains,—upon the hardship 
of leaving honest men at the mercy of every idle or profligate 
person who has address enough to obtain credit, and upon the 
absurdity of that philanthropy which would prevent them from 
deterring him from his frauds by the terrors of a jail. 

To determine between these vehement and conflicting opinions, 
the great question is, Whether a debtor is a criminal1 If he is, 
there is no reason why he should not be treated as a criminal; and 
if he is not, there is no reason why an innocent man should meet 
the fate which is due only to the guilty. These contradictory opinions 
appear to result from the circumstance, that one set of persons 
regard insolvents as criminals, and the other as unfortunate men. 
The truth however is that many are of one class and many of the 
other. It is therefore no subject of surprise, that when one set 
of persons view one side of the question and another the opposite, 
they should involve themselves and the subject in conflict and 
contradiction. 

From these considerations one conclusion appears plainA to 
follow,—that no undiscriminating law upon the subject can be 
even tolerably just; that to concede the power of imprisoning all 
debtors, is to permit oppression: that to deny it to any, is to 
withhold punishment from guilt. In order therefore to attain the 


CRIMINAL DEBTORS. 


430 


Essay 3. 


ends of justice, it is absolutely indispensable that discrimination 
should be made in every individual case. 

Suppose then the first legal step towards enforcing payment 
from a debtor were, not to obtain a writ but to summon him before 
a magistrate. If he refuses to attend to the summons a warrant 
might be granted for his arrest, since the reasonable inference 
would be, that his motives for tvithholding payment, or the causes 
by which he had become unable to pay, were such as he was 
afraid to acknowledge. If he attended the case would be heard,— 
not from lawyers but from the parties themselves. Supposing it 
appeared that the debtor was capable of paying but unwilling, or 
that although then unable his inability had been occasioned by 
manifest misconduct:—let him be committed to prison. And 
why ? Because he is an offender against public justice, and like 
other offenders should await his punishment. 

Supposing again it appeared that the debtor could not pay, and 
that his insolvency involved no fault:—let him be regarded as a 
man overtaken by misfortune, as a man whom it would be oppres¬ 
sive and wrong to punish, and who therefore should be set at 
large. His property of course would be secured. 

Discrimination of this kind, whatever might be the mode of its 
exercise, appears to be a sine qua non of the administration 
of justice. It is exceedingly obvious, that when actions of which 
the external consequences may be the same, result some from 
innocent and some from criminal causes, they should not receive 
the same treatment at the hand of the law:—just as he who 
accidentally occasions a man’s death should not receive the same 
treatment as he who commits murder. Now this manifest requisite 
of justice is in no other way attainable in the case of insolvency 
than by investigating the conduct of every individual man. 

When the criminal debtors are committed like other criminals 
to prison, they should be regarded as public offenders, and as such 
become amenable to penal animadversion. Courts of a simple 
construction might perhaps be erected for this class of offenders, 
which might possess the power of awarding such punishments for 
the various degrees of guilt as the law thought fit to prescribe. 
Nor does there appear any reason for deviating materially from 
those species of punishment which are properly employed for 
other offenders, because insolvency is occasioned by guilt in 
endless gradations, and sometimes by great crime. The number 


Chap. 11. GRADATIONS OF GUILT IN INSOLVENCY. 431 

of insolvents who are entirely innocent is comparatively small, 
and of those who are not innocent the gradations of criminality 
are without end. Some are incautious or imprudent, some are 
heedlessly and some shamefully negligent, and some again are 
atrociously profligate. The whole amount of injury which is 
inflicted upon the people of this country by criminal insolvency, 
is much greater than that which is inflicted by any one other crime 
which is ordinarily punished by the law. Neither swindling, nor 
forgery, nor robbery, in their varieties, produces an equal amount 
of mischief. To every single individual who loses his property 
by theft or fraud, there are probably twenty who lose it by 
criminal debtors. Such facts evidently furnish weighty consi¬ 
derations for the legislator as the guardian of the public welfare; 
and that system of jurisprudence is surely defective which allows 
so much public mischief almost without restraint. Justice and 
policy alike indicate the necessity of more efficient security 
against the want of probity in debtors than has hitherto been 
furnished by the law. 

A man who begins business with a thousand pounds of his own, 
and who keeps a stock of goods to the value of fifteen hundred, is 
obliged in honesty to insure. If he does not insure, and a fire 
destroys his goods, so that his creditors lose five hundred pounds, 
he surely is chargeable with a moral offence. It cannot be just 
knowingly to endanger the loss of other men’s property which has 
been entrusted in the confidence of its repayment. But if such a 
man commits injustice towards others, upon what grounds is he to 
be exempted from the rightful consequences of injustice! We 
would not speak of such a man as a criminal, nor affirm that he 
deserves severity of punishment, but we say that since he has 
needlessly and negligently sacrificed the property of other men, it 
is fit that the penal legislator should notice and discountenance his 
offence. 

Another trader without any vicious intention “ neglects his 
business.” His customers by degrees leave him. Year passes 
after year with an income continually diminishing, until at length 
he finds that his property is less than his debts. This man is 
more vicious than the former, and should be visited by a greater 
amount of punishment. Another with a prosperous business and 
no great vices, allows a more expensive domestic establishment 
than his income warrants. His property gradually laspes away, 



432 A BANKRUPT.—PUBLIC OPINION. Essay 3. 

and at last he cannot pay twenty shillings in the pound to his 
creditors. Can it be disputed that a man who knows that he is 
in a course of life which will probably end in defrauding others of 
their property, should be regarded in any other light than as an 
offender against justice 1 And can it be unreasonable for the 
jurisprudence of a community to act towards such an offender as 
if he were a dishonest man 1 

Another engages in speculations which endanger the property 
of his creditors, and which if they do not succeed will defraud 
them. Such speculations certainly are dishonest; and when they 
prove unsuccessful, he who makes them should be treated as the 
committer of voluntary fraud. The propriety of this is enforced 
by the consideration, that it is nearly impossible for creditors to 
provide against such fraudulence; and laws should be severe in 
proportion as the facilities of wrong are great. 

Such gradations might be multiplied indefinitely, until we 
arrived at those in which men contract debts without the probable 
prospect of payment; and thence up to the intentionally and 
voluntarily fraudulent. For such offenders the penalties should 
be severe. The guilt of some of them is at least as great as that 
of him who robs you of your purse or forges your signature. 
With respect indeed to those who pursue a deliberate course of 
fraud, and under pretence of business, possess themselves of the 
property of others, and expend it or carry it off, there are few 
crimes connected with property that are equally atrocious. The 
law indeed appears to acknowledge this, for its penalty for a 
fraudulent bankrupt is desperately severe. Without stopping to 
inquire why it is so seldom inflicted, one truth appears to be 
plain, that a penal system which like ours scarcely adverts to 
crimes so extended and so great, must be greatly defective. 
Surely there are many persons who walk our streets every day, 
yet who are in the view both of natural and of Christian justice in¬ 
comparably more guilty and more justly obnoxious to punishment, 
than the majority of those whom the law confines in jails or trans¬ 
ports beyond the ocean. 

We are persuaded, that if the penal law took cognizance of all 
insolvents, and regarded all who could not satisfactorily account 
for their insolvency as public delinquents—if these were prose¬ 
cuted as systematically as thieves are now, and if by these means 
the idea of “ crime” was associated with their conduct in the 




Chap. 11 . 


LIBELS. 


433 


public mind ; the deplorable mischiefs of bankruptcy would be 
quickly and greatly diminished. In the restraint of all crimes 
the power of public opinion is great. At present; unhappily, the 
man whose offence is justly worthy of imprisonment or trans¬ 
portation, obtains his certificate, and then becomes the accepted 
associate of virtuous men. But teach the public to connect with 
him the idea not of a bankrupt but of a prisoner; not of a man 
who has acted dishonourably towards his creditors, but of a con¬ 
victed criminal,—and this association would cease. Who would 
admit a footpad to his table 1 And who would admit to his table 
a man who was just like a footpad 1 It requires little knowledge 
of the constitution of society to know, that when the offences of 
fraudulent and negligent insolvency are ranked in the public 
estimation with those of ordinary criminals, men will be influenced 
by a new, and a powerful, and an efficient motive to avoid them. 


It is a question that involves some difficulties whether the 
publication of statements injurious to individuals, to a government, 
or to religion, are proper subjects of penal animadversion. That 
the publishers of these statements frequently act criminally is 
certain, and they are therefore justly obnoxious to punishment: 
but still it is to be inquired, whether they can be efficiently 
punished; and whether, if they be, the punishment can be such as 
to attain the proper ends of all punishment,—reformation, exam¬ 
ple, and redress. 

And here we are presented, at the outset, with a great impe¬ 
diment resulting from the nature of fixed law. If a libeller is to 
be legally punished, the law must give some definition of what a 
libel is. Now it is actually impossible to frame any definition 
which shall not either on the one hand give license to injurious 
publications by its laxity, or on the other prohibit a just publica¬ 
tion of the truth by its rigour. The utmost sagacity of legislation 
cannot avoid one of these two consequences. They are not a 
Scylla and Charybdis which a wary helmsman may avoid: on 
the one or the other the legislator will infallibly find himself 
wrecked. 

If libellers, like other offenders, were tried by courts of equity, 
which were guided in their award by the simple merits of the 

2 F 




434 MODE OF PUNISHING LIBELS. Essay 3. 

case, without any regard to the definitions of law,—the case would 
be different. We might then expect that the publication of 
wholesome truths would receive no punishment though they con¬ 
stituted what is defined to be a libel now, and that the publication 
of gratuitous malignity would receive a punishment though law¬ 
yers now might say that the book was not a libel. 

Yet even if these difficulties resulting from the vain attempt at 
legal definitions were surmounted, and equity alone were entrusted 
with the decision, it may still be greatly doubted whether in the 
large majority of this class of publications, all attempts at direct 
punishment would not be better avoided. 

Refer to the objects of punishment. Assume for the present 
that reformation is the first. Is it probable, from the motives and 
nature of the offence, that the reformation of the offender can often 
be hoped from any species of judicial penalties ? 

The second object we suppose to be example. Men may no 
doubt be deterred from publishing injurious statements by the 
fear of consequences; and thus far the end is attained. Sup¬ 
posing that the publishers could generally be discovered, and that 
the decisions of the courts were practically just, I should think the 
object of example would be a strong reason for inflicting judicial 
punishment upon the libeller:—still other considerations will 
presently be submitted, which induce the belief that such punish¬ 
ment is not the most effectual nor the most proper means of pre¬ 
vention. 

Then as to redress. There is only one way in which rational 
redress can be attained by the aspersed party; and that is, by 
proving and making known the falsehood of the aspersion. But 
this can be done without applying to judicial courts. 

The reader will ask, What then is it proposed to do ? and in 
furnishing a reply, I shall proceed upon the supposition that courts 
of law only exist. 

A statement injurious to a private individual is published to 
the world. He prosecutes the libeller under the most favourable 
circumstances. He can prove that it is legally a libel, and he can 
prove also that it is false. What then does he gain by proceeding 
to law ! Nothing, individually, but that he proves the falsehood; 
and this he may do more satisfactorily, more cheaply, and more 
efficient^, without a court of law than within it. If there are 
documents, or if there is testimony by which he can prove the 



Chap. 11. LIBELS NOT PUNISHED BY THE LAW. 


435 


falsehood, they can be adduced before the public without the 
intervention of courts, and juries, and pleaders. Besides, the 
verdict of law upon such cases is habitually received with a sort 
of suspicion and want of confidence in its foundation; because 
we know that verdicts are continually given against the pub¬ 
lishers of libels although the libel is true. Now, in whatever 
degree the public doubts respecting the absolute falsehood of the 
libel, in the same degree the great private object of prosecuting 
the libeller is frustrated. The same evidence of falsehood ad¬ 
duced without the intervention of law , would be much more 
effectual, because it would be exempted from the same suspicion. 
—I put other motives to prosecution, such as a regard to the 
public, out of the question, because these are not often the motives 
which operate. In such matters men usually act not from public 
but from private views. 

But the prosecutor’s circumstances may be less favourable. 
Suppose the statement, however injurious, is not legally a libel. 
Then, whatever evidence he produces, the verdict is against him, 
and the public, who do not trouble themselves with nice distinc¬ 
tions, perhaps think that the imputation upon his character is 
deserved. Again, it may be a libel, and yet he may fail of pro¬ 
ducing legal proof. The most mortifying and insignificant defi¬ 
ciencies in proof disappoint all his hopes. The publication of a 
libel which all the world has seen, and of which every body 
knows the publisher, does not admit perhaps of legal proof. No 
man can be brought forward who has seen, with his own eyes, that 
a certain man did publish it. And here again the prosecutor 
obtains no redress. But further.—Many public statements are 
libellous and are cruelly injurious to the sufferer, which, neverthe¬ 
less, are true. To prosecute these statements is worse than 
merely vain. You only extend further and wider the reproach 
which was confined within narrower limits before. You make 
the evil to yourself more intense as well as more extended; for 
the prosecuted party will no doubt take care to bring proof of the 
truth of his statements. Thus the scandal which was accepted 
with doubt and by a few previous to the trial, is accepted with 
certainty and by a multitude afterwards. 

What then is to be done 1 Is every man to be at liberty to 
say with impunity whatever he pleases, true or false, against other 
men 1 Not with impunity; but with impunity from the law. 


436 


LIBELS NOT PUNISHED BY THE LAW. Essay 3. 


That this legal impunity may be productive of some evils is un¬ 
doubtedly true. But the question is not whether evils exist, but 
whether they can be remedied.—Let us suppose then that there 
was no such thing as libel law. I think it probable that if these 
laws were repealed to-morrow, the press would quickly inundate 
the public with torrents of villification and slander. The malig¬ 
nity of bad men would for a while prevent them from perceiving 
the alteration which awaited the public habits. They would 
think that an aspersion would continue to have the same effect 
in practically injuring and blackening the character of others, as 
it has now that it is comparatively unfrequent from the restraints 
of law. But what would be the result 1 Inevitably this ; that 
the public would very quickly regard libels as they regard all other 
common things, with heedless indifference. They would not 
seize upon them as they now do with a vicious avidity. Pub¬ 
lished slander would become to the public, what the abuse of fish- 
women is to the inhabitants of Billingsgate, a thing which they do 
not regard,—a thing about which they do not trouble themselves to 
consider whether the mutual vilifications be true or false, and for 
which they scarcely think either the worse or the better of the 
quarrellers. With respect to published slander, such a state of 
things could not last. Private malignity would often die for want of 
food. It would not publish the aspersion which when published no 
one would regard, and the flood of vituperation would soon subside. 

But suppose for a moment that the contrary w r ere possible. 
What would then happen] Why the public would habituate 
themselves to discrimination. They would not, they could not, 
accept every libel as true; and in general they would accept 
none as true of which the truth was not proved. Here again the 
desire of virtue would be in a great degree fulfilled; for we need 
not trouble ourselves to repress libels by which no man’s mind is 
influenced. In all suppositions too the proper means of redress 
are in the sufferer’s power,—to adduce proof of the falsehood and 
malignity of the assertion. And this is not only the greatest 
object to himself, but it would also be a positive punishment to 
the slanderer, whilst the custom would become a terror to other 
promulgators of slander. What punishment is so likely to be 
influential as to be proved to be a malicious and lying vilifier of 
innocent men ] What motive so powerful to prevent this vilifi¬ 
cation, as the knowledge that this proof would be laid before the 
public ] 


Chap . 11. EFFECTS OF PUBLIC CENSURE, &c. 


437 


If an innocent person, whose character had been in this manner 
publicly aspersed, should ask what I would advise him to do] 
—I should say—Think nothing of law: go to those persons who 
have the means of testifying the falsehood of the aspersion; 
procure their explicit and attested allegations; or if by any other 
means your innocence can be shown,—avail yourself of them, 
and forthwith lay your exculpation before the public. Here the 
great end is attained. Your character is not injured; and as 
to the slanderer he is punished by being made the subject of 
public reprobation and disgust. A few days previous to that 
on which I write, a wide extended daily newspaper published 
some insinuations against the character of a gentleman eminent 
in society. What was done ] Why the same day or the next, a 
nobleman who happened to know the truth, and whose word no 
one would dispute, sent a note to another paper saying the insinu¬ 
ation was unfounded. Was not every object then attained] 
Would this gentleman have been further benefited by prose¬ 
cuting the editor] or could this editor have been more appropri¬ 
ately punished than by this exposure of his malignity ] 

But it will be said, that there do not exist the means of disproving 
some aspersions however false. This is correct; but what is to 
be done ] If the sufferer cannot disprove it in a newspaper or 
pamphlet, neither can he in a court of law; and unless it is dis¬ 
proved, a prosecution, besides procuring little or no redress, 
publishes the .aspersion to a ten-fold number. Yet such a person 
may demand proof of the slanderer, and require that he come 
forward. This, and such things, may be done in a manner that 
so indicates integrity and innocence, that in failure of a justifica¬ 
tion of the slander it would recoil upon the author. 

The most pitiable situation is that of a person, now perhaps 
virtuous and good, who is charged with some of the crimes or 
vices of which he was actually guilty in past times. Here the 
libel cannot be repelled, for it is true. To invite investigation is 
to publish and deepen the slander. It must therefore be borne : 
a painful alternative, but unavoidable; and he who endures it will, 
perhaps, if he be now a Christian, regard it with humility, as a 
not unjust retribution of his former sins. 

But to allow the unrestrained publication of facts or falsehood 
is not a matter purely evil. The statutes which prevent men 
from publishing libels, prevent them also from publishing truths, 


438 


EFFECTS OF PUBLIC CENSURE Essay 3. 


—truths which all men ought to hear. There are some actions 
which can in no other way he punished or discountenanced than 
by exposing them to the public reprobation. I saw the other 
day, in a newspaper (I think these popular references much to 
the purpose) a narrative of the gross cruelty of some gentleman to 
his horse, by which a large part of the animal’s tongue had been 
cut or torn from its mouth. The narrator said he was afraid to 
mention this man’s name on account of the libel laws. Suppose 
the statement to have been true, and the name to have been made 
public; would it not have been a proper and a severe punishment 
for the inhumanity 1 Would it not have deterred others from such 
inhumanity 1 In a word, ought not such charges to be published 1 
—And thus it would be with a multitude of other offences for 
which scarcely any punishment is so effectual as the reprobation 
of the public. “ There is no terror that comes home to the heart 
of vice, like the terror of being exhibited to the public eye.” I 
am willing to acknowledge, that if the publication of many species 
of vicious conduct was more frequent,—so frequent as to be 
habitual, it would eventually tend to the extension of private and 
of public virtue. Men who were in any way ill-disposed, would 
find themselves under a constant apprehension of exposure from 
which almost no vigilance could secure an escape. The writer 
from whom I have quoted the sentence above, holds much stronger 
language than mine. “ If truth,” says he, “ were universally 
told of men’s dispositions and actions, gibbets and wheels might 
be dismissed from the face of the earth. The knave unmasked, 
would be obliged to turn honest in his own defence. Nay, no 
man would have time to grow a knave. Truth would follow him 
in his first irresolute essays, and public disapprobation arrest him 
in the commencement of his career.” 1 All this is not now to be 
hoped : yet when men knew that the exposure of their misdeeds 
was in the uncontrollable power of the press, and that there were 
no means of securing themselves from its punishment but by being 
virtuous, would not they be more anxious to practise virtue 1 
Would not the dread of exposure operate upon some of the un¬ 
punished vices of private life, as the dread of public opinion 
operates upon more public vices now I The restraining power of 
public opinion we know is great:—by dispensing with libel laws 
we should extend that power. 

1 Godwin : Enq. Pol. Just. v. 2, p. 643. 


Chap. 11 . 


ON PRIVATE CONDUCT—FOX. 


439 


Finally, the repeal of these laws would be attended with one 
of two consequences. If the consequence was that these publica¬ 
tions were not increased in number, no evil could be done. If 
they were increased and greatly increased in number, the public 
would soon learn to discriminate. Tales are believed now because 
they are seldom told, and the public discrimination is not suffi¬ 
ciently habituated to distinguish the false from the true. If it 
were, the true only would pass current. These often ought to 
pass; and as to the false,—who would publish what no one would 
believe l 1 

Publications to the discredit of government or of its officers, 
assume a different character; but the difference appears to be 
such as still more strongly to argue against visiting them with 
legal penalties. Charles James Fox remarked upon this differ¬ 
ence. He thought however that private libels, some of the true 
as well as the false, might rightly be punished by the state; 
but “ in questions relating to public men,” says he, “ verity in 
respect of public measures ought to be regarded as a complete 
justification of a libel.” 2 Whether truth be a justification of a 
political libel is one question,—Whether such a libel ought to be 
punished by the law is another. But I think that no statement 
respecting public measures ought to be punished by the law,— 
for this simple reason amongst others :—if the statement be true, 
it is commonly right that the truth should be publicly known; if 
it be false, the mischief is better remedied by publicly showing the 
falsehood than by any other means. Surely to repel the aspersion 
upon public men by showing that it is unfounded, is more consistent 
with the dignity of a government than to pursue the vituperator 
with fines and imprisonment. Surely this more dignified course 
would recommend the government and its measures to the judg¬ 
ments of all wise and judicious men. 

To what purpose will you prosecute a true statement. If a 
hundred men hear of it before the prosecution, ten thousand 
perhaps will hear of it afterwards. Nor is this all: for I scarcely 

1 I learn from a book which professes to give information respecting “ Society 
and Manners in High and low Life,” that there existed (and perhaps there still 
exists) a House of Call in London, where he who had malice without ability might 
bespeak a libel upon any subject. The price was seven and sixpence. In a few 
hours he might hear the scandal, if such was his order, sung about the streets.—Such 
a fact may well affect our resolution to punish libellers by the grave power of the 
law. 2 Fell’s Memoirs. 


440 LIBELS ON THE GOVERNMENT—USES OF Essay 3. 


know an act which can more powerfully tend to weaken a go¬ 
vernment, than first to act amiss, and then vindictively to pursue 
him who mentions the misconduct. If the object of a government 
in instituting such a prosecution be to strengthen its own hands, 
surely it pursues the object by most inexpedient means;—and as 
to suppressing truth by the mere influence of terror, it is a mode 
of governing for which no man in this country ought to lift his 
voice. 

A very serious point in addition is this,—that almost all 
political libels, whether true or false, are countenanced by a party. 
A prosecution therefore, however seemingly successful, is some¬ 
times totally defeated, because the party recompenses the victim 
for his sufferings or his losses. The prosecution and those who 
conduct it become the laughing stock of the party. In the days 
of Pitt, a person published a libel which that statesman declared 
in the house of commons to be “ the most infamous collection of 
sedition and treason that ever was published.” 1 The man was 
prosecuted, found guilty, and sentenced to some imprisonment. 
What was the result ? Why the party made a subscription for 
him to the amount, it was said, of four thousand pounds. What 
bad man would not publish a libel to be so paid 1 What discreet 
government would prosecute a libel to be so defeated 1 

But if the uses of a free statement of the truth be so great in 
the case of private persons, much more is it desirable in the case 
of political affairs. To discuss, and if needful, temperately to 
animadvert upon the conduct of governments, is the proper busi¬ 
ness of the public. How else shall the judgment of a people be 
called forth and expressed 1 How else shall they induce an 
amendment in public measures! The very circumstance that 
government is above the customary control of the laws, is a good 
reason for allowing the people freely to deliver their sentiments 
upon its conduct. Many ill actions of the private man may be 
punished by the law; but how shall the ill actions of public per¬ 
sons be discountenanced if it be not by the expression of the 
public mind 1 A people have sometimes no other means of 
promoting reformations in the conduct of government, than by ex¬ 
posing those parts in which reformation is needed. The argument 
then is short.—To prosecute false political libels is unreasonable, 
for there are better and wiser means of procedure. To prosecute 

1 Gifford’s Life. 


441 


Chap. 11. A FREE STATEMENT OF THE TRUTH. 

true statements is wrong, because truth ought to be freely told; 
and if it were not wrong, it would be absurd, because a govern¬ 
ment inflicts more injury upon itself by the prosecution than was 
inflicted by the statement itself. 


As the subject maligned rises in dignity, we are presented with 
stronger and still stronger dissuasions to the legal prosecution of 
the maligner. There are more reasons against prosecuting a po¬ 
litical than a private aspersion: there are more reasons against 
prosecuting aspersions upon religion than either.—Supposing, 
which we must suppose, that religion is true, then all libels upon it 
must be false ; and like other false libels are better met by proving 
the truth than by punishing the liar. “ Christianity is but ill 
defended,” says Paley, “ by refusing audience or toleration to the 
objections of unbelievers.” 1 It is a scandal to religion to prose¬ 
cute the man who makes objections to its truths : for what is the 
inference in the objector’s mind but this, that we resort to force 
because we cannot produce arguments ] Nor let me be misin¬ 
terpreted if I ask, What is Christianity, or who shall define it 1 
I may be of opinion, and in fact I am of opinion, that some of the 
doctrines which the professors of Christianity promulgate, are as 
much opposed to Christianity as some of the arguments of unbe¬ 
lievers. But this is not a good reason for making my judgment 
the standard .of Truth. Yet, without a standard, how shall we 
prosecute him who impugns Christianity 1 How, rather, shall we 
know whether he impugns Christianity or something else! 

Truth is an overmatch for falsehood. Where they are allowed 
fairly to conflict, truth is sure of the victory. Who then would 
rob her of the victory by silencing falsehood by force 1 It is by 
such contests that the cause of truth is promoted. The assailant 
calls forth defenders; and it has in fact happened, that the proofs 
and practical authority of religion have been strengthened by 
defences which, but for the assaults of error, might never have 
been made or sought. 

If it be said that fair argument, however unsound, may be tole¬ 
rated, and that you only mean to punish the authors of reproach¬ 
ful and scandalous attacks upon religion,—we answer, that these 
attacks, like every other, are better repelled by exposure or by 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 5, c. 9. 





442 


FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. 


Essay 3 . 


neglect than by force. You can scarcely prosecute these bad 
men (so experience teaches) without making them cry out about 
persecution, and without calling around them a party who might 
otherwise have held their peace. They exclaim, “ The sufferer 
believed what he wrote, and thought that to publish it was for the 
general good.” All this maybe false, but it is specious. At any 
rate you cannot disprove it. Sympathy for the man induces 
sympathy for his principles.—Another way in which a prosecu¬ 
tion defeats its proper object is, that to prosecute a writing whether 
scandalous or only false, is a sure way of making the book read. 
Thousands inquire for a profligate book because they hear it is of 
so much importance as to be prosecuted, who else would not have 
inquired because they would not have heard of it. So it was 
about forty years ago with Paine’s Works. What, says gaping 
curiosity, can this book be, which ministers and bishops are so 
anxious that we should not read ? Multitudes have read the pro¬ 
fligate later works of the unhappy Lord Byron, but probably 
unnumbered multitudes more would have read them if they had 
been prosecuted by the Attorney General and burnt by the hang¬ 
man. As it is, it may be hoped they will sink into oblivion by 
the weight of their own obscene profaneness. 1 


One objection applies to nearly all prosecutions of books,— 
that it is almost impossible to restrain the licentiousness of the 
press without diminishing its wholesome freedom. The bounda¬ 
ries of freedom and licentiousness cannot be defined by law. No 
law can be devised which shall at once exclude the evil and 
permit the good. Now to restrain the freedom of the press is 
amongst the greatest mischiefs which can be inflicted upon man¬ 
kind. The reader will be prepared to acknowledge the magnitude 
of the mischief, if he considers how powerful and how proper an 
agent public opinion is in promoting social and political reforma- 

1 This man affords an instance of that strange detraction from our own reputation 
with posterity to which we have before referred. He certainly wished that “ dull 
oblivion” should not 

“ bar 

His name from out the temple where the dead 
Are honoured by the nations.”'— 

How preposterous then to be the suicide of so large a portion of his hopes, by 
writing what experience might teach him the nations would not honour. 



Chap. 11 . 


CONCLUSION. 


443 


tions. There is no agent of reformation so desirable as the quiet 
influence of the public judgment; and in order to make this 
judgment sound and powerful, the press should be free. 


The general conclusion that is suggested by the present chapter, 
is what the intelligent and Christian reader might expect,—that 
the legislator should endeavour, so far as from time to time be¬ 
comes practicable, to direct penal animadversion to those actions 
which are prohibited by the Moral Law; that he should endea¬ 
vour this, both by addition and deduction; by ceasing to punish 
that which morality does not condemn, and by extending punish¬ 
ment to more of those actions which it does condemn. 

As to the seeming exception in the case of libels, we do not 
contend so much for their impunity, as that the law is not the 
best means of punishment. By taking the care of restraining 
this offence from the law and placing it in the hands of the public, 
the punishment would sometimes be not only more effectual but 
more severe. 




CHAPTER XIL 


OF THE PROPER ENDS OF PUNISHMENT. 

Why is a man who commits an offence punished for the act] 
Is it for his own advantage, or for that of others, or for both]— 
For both, and primarily for his own \ x which answer will perhaps 
the more readily recommend itself, if it can he shown that the 
good of others, that is, of the public, is best consulted by those 
systems of punishment which are most effectual in benefitting the 
offender himself. 

When we recur to the precepts and the spirit of Christianity, 
we find that the one great pervading principle by which it re¬ 
quires us to regulate our conduct towards others, is of that opera¬ 
tive, practical, good will,—that good will which if they be in 
suffering, will prompt us to alleviate the misery, if they be vicious, 
will prompt us to reclaim them from vice. That the misconduct of 
the individual exempts us from the obligation to regard this rule, 
it would be futile to imagine. It is by him that the exercise of 
benevolence is peculiarly needed. He is the morally sick, who 
needs the physician; and such a physician he, who by comparison 
is morally whole, should be. If we adopt the spirit of the decla¬ 
ration, “ I came not to call the righteous but sinners to repent¬ 
ance,” we shall entertain no doubt that the reformation of offenders 
is the primary business of the Christian in devising punishments. 
There appears no reason why, in the case of public criminals, the 
spirit of the rule should not be acted upon,—“ If a brother be 
overtaken in a fault restore such an one.” Amongst the Corin¬ 
thians there was an individual who had committed a gross offence, 
such as is now punished by the law of England. Of this criminal 

1 “ The end of all correction is either the amendment of wicked men or to prevent 
the influence of ill example.” This is the rule of Seneca; and by mentioning 
amendment first, he appears to have regarded it as the primary object. 



Chap. 12. REFORMATION OF THE OFFENDER. 


445 


Paul speaks in strong terms of reprobation in the first epistle. 
The effect proved to be good; and the offender having apparently 
become reformed, the Corinthians were directed in the second 
epistle, to forgive and to comfort him. 

When therefore a person has committed a crime, the great duty 
of those who in common with himself are candidates for the mercy 
of God, is to endeavour to meliorate and rectify the dispositions in 
which his crime originates; to subdue the vehemence of his pas¬ 
sions,—to raise up in his mind a power that may counteract the 
power of future temptation. We should feel towards these men¬ 
tally diseased, as we feel towards the physical sufferer,—compas¬ 
sion; and the great object should be to cure the disease. No 
doubt in endeavouring this object severe remedies must often be 
employed. It is just what we should expect; and the remedies 
will probably be severe in proportion to the inveteracy and malig¬ 
nity of the complaint. But still the end should never be forgotten, 
and I think a just estimate of our moral obligations, will lead us 
to regard the attainment of that end as paramount to every other. 

There is one great practical advantage in directing the attention 
especially to this moral cure, which is this, that if it be successful, 
it prevents the offender from offending again. It is well known 
that the proportion of those who, having once suffered the stated 
punishment, again transgress the laws and are again convicted, is 
great. But to whatever extent reformation was attained, this un¬ 
happy result would be prevented. 

The second object of punishment, that of example, appears to 
be recognised as right by Christianity when it says that the ma¬ 
gistrate is a “terror” to bad men; and when it admonishes such 
to be “afraid” of his power. There can be no reason for speak¬ 
ing of punishment as a terror, unless it were right to adopt such 
punishments as would deter. In the private discipline of the 
church the same idea is kept in view:—“ Them that sin rebuke 
before all, that others also may fear .” 1 The parallel of physical 
disease may also still hold. The offender is a member of the so¬ 
cial body; and the physician who endeavours to remove a local 
disease, always acts with a reference to the health of the system. 

In stating reformation as the first object, we also conclude, that 
if, in any case, the attainment of reformation and the exhibition 
of example should be found to be incompatible, the former is to be 

1 1 Tim. v. 20. 



446 


EXAMPLE.—RESTITUTION. 


Essay 3 . 


preferred. I say if; for it is by no means certain that such cases 
will ever arise. The measures which are necessary to reformation 
must operate as example; and in general, since the reformation of 
the more hardened offenders is not to be expected except by severe 
measures, the influence of terror in endeavouring reformation will 
increase with the malignity of the crime. This is just what we 
need, and what the penal legislator is so solicitous to secure. The 
point for the exercise of wisdom is, to attain the second object in 
attaining the first. A primary regard to the first object is com¬ 
patible with many modifications of punishment in order more 
effectually to attain the second. If there are two measures of 
which both tend alike to reformation, and one tends most to operate 
as example, that one should unquestionably be preferred. 

There is a third object which, though subordinate to the others, 
might perhaps still obtain greater notice from the legislator than it 
is wont to do,—Restitution or Compensation. 1 Since what are 
called criminal actions are commonly injuries committed by one 
man upon another, it appears to be a very obvious dictate of rea¬ 
son that the injury should be repaired;—that he from whom the 
thief steals a purse should regain its value; that he who is injured 
in his person or otherwise should receive such compensation as he 
may. When my house is broken into and a hundred pounds worth 
of property is carried off, it is but an imperfect satisfaction to me 
that the robber will be punished. I ought to recover the value of 
my property. The magistrate, in taking care of the general, should 
take care of the individual weal. The laws of England do now 
award compensation in damages for some injuries. This is a re¬ 
cognition of the principle; although it is remarkable, not only that 
the number of offences which are thus punished is small, but that 
they are frequently of a sort in which pecuniary loss has not been 
sustained by the injured party. 

I do not imagine that in the present state of penal law or of the 
administration of justice, a general regard to compensation is prac¬ 
ticable, but this does not prove that it ought not to be regarded. 
If in an improved state of penal affairs, it should be found prac¬ 
ticable to oblige offenders to recompense by their labour those who 
had suffered by their crime, this advantage would attend,—that 

1 “ The law of nature commands that reparation be made.” Mor. and Pol. Phil, 
b. 6, c. 8. And this dictate of nature appears to have been recognised in the Mosaic 
law, in which compensation to the suffering party is expressly required. 


Chap . 12. GODWIN ON THE SUBJECT OF PUNISHMENT. 447 


while it would probably involve considerable punishment, it would 
approve itself to the offender’s mind as the demand of reason and 
of justice. This is no trifling consideration; for in every species 
of coercion and punishment, public or domestic, it is of conse¬ 
quence that the punished party should feel the justice and propriety 
of the measures which are adopted. 


The writer of these Essays would be amongst the last to repro¬ 
bate a strict adherence to abstract principles, as such; but some 
men, in their zeal for such principles, have proposed strange doc¬ 
trines upon the subject of punishment. It has been said that when 
a crime has been committed it cannot be recalled, that it is a “ past 
and irrevocable action,” and that to inflict pain upon the criminal 
because he has committed it, “ is one of the wildest conceptions of 
untutored barbarism.” No one perhaps would affirm that, in 
strictness, such a motive to punishment is right; but how, when 
an offence is committed, can you separate the objects of punish¬ 
ment so as not practically to punish because the man has offended? 
If you regulate the punishment by its legitimate objects, you 
punish because the offender needs it; and as all offenders do need 
it, you punish all;—which amounts in practice to nearly the same 
thing as punishing because they have committed a crime. How¬ 
ever, as an abstract principle there might be little occasion to dis¬ 
pute about it; 'but when it is made a foundation for such doctrine 
as the following, it is needful to recall the supreme authority of the 
Moral Law. “We are bound, under certain urgent circumstances, 
to deprive the offender of the liberty he has abused. Further 
than this, no circumstance can authorize us. The infliction of 
further evil, when his power to injure is removed, is the wild and 
unauthorized dictate of vengeance and rage.” This is affirmative ; 
and in turn I would affirm that it is the sober and authorized dic¬ 
tate of justice and good will. But indeed why may we even 
restrain him? Obviously for the sake of others;—and for the 
sake of others we may also do more. Besides, this philosophy 
leaves the offender’s reformation out of the question. If he is so 
wicked that you are obliged to confine him lest he should commit 
violence again, he is so wicked that you are obliged to confine 
him for his own good. And in reality, the writer himself had just 




448 


PUNISHMENT MAY BE 


Essay 3 . 


before virtually disproved his own position:—“ Whatever gentle¬ 
ness,” he says, “the intellectual physician may display, it is not 
to be believed that men can part with rooted habits of injustice 
and vice without the sensation of considerable pain.” 1 But, to 
occasion this pain in order to make them part with vicious habits, 
is to do something “further” than to take away liberty. 


Respecting the relative utility of different modes of punishment 
and of prison discipline, we have little to say, partly because the 
practical recognition of reformation as a primary object affords 
good security for the adoption of judicious measures, and partly 
because these topics have already obtained much of the public 
attention. One suggestion may however be made, that as good 
consequences have followed from making a prisoners confinement 
depend for its duration on his conduct, so that if it be exemplary 
the period is diminished, there appears no sufficient reason why 
the parallel system should not be adopted of increasing the origi¬ 
nal sentence if his conduct continue vicious. There is no breach 
of reason or of justice in this. For the reasonable object of pu¬ 
nishment is to attain certain ends, and if by the original sentence 
it is found that these ends are not attained, reason appears to dic¬ 
tate that stronger motives should be employed. It cannot surely 
be less reasonable to add to a culprit’s penalty if his conduct be 
bad, than to deduct from it if it be good. For a sentence should 
not be considered as a propitiation of the law, nor when it is in¬ 
flicted should it be considered, as of necessity, that all is done. 
The sentence which the law pronounces is a general rule,—good 
perhaps as a general rule, but sometimes inadequate to its end. 
And the utility of retaining the power of adding to a penalty, is 
the same in kind and probably greater in degree than the power 
of diminishing it. In one case the culprit is influenced by hope 
and in the other by fear. Fear is the more powerful agent upon 
some men’s mind’s and hope upon others. And as to the justice 
of such an institution, it appears easily to be vindicated: for what 
is the standard of justice ? The sentence of the law 1 No : for 
if it were it would be unjust to abate of it as well as to add. Is 
it the original crime of the offender? No: for if it were, the 

1 Godwin: Enq. Pol. Just. v. 2, p. 74S. 751. 



Chap. 12 . 


DIMINISHED OR INCREASED. 


449 


same crime, by whatever variety of conduct it was afterwards 
followed, must always receive an equal penalty. The standard of 
justice is to be estimated by the ends for which punishments are 
inflicted. Now although it would be too much to affirm that any 
penalty or duration of penalty would be just until these ends were 
attained, yet surely it is not unjust to endeavour their attainment 
by some additions to an original penalty when they cannot be 
attained without. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


PUNISHMENT OF DEATH. 

I select for observation this peculiar mode of punishment on 
account of its peculiar importance. 

And here, we are impressed at the outset with the considera¬ 
tion, that of the three great objects which have just been proposed 
as the proper ends of punishment, the punishment of death re¬ 
gards but one; and that one not the first and the greatest. The 
only end which is consulted in taking the life of an offender, is 
that of example to other men. His own reformation is put almost 
out of the question. Now if the principles delivered in the pre¬ 
ceding chapter be sound, they present at once an almost insuper¬ 
able objection to the punishment of death. If reformation be the 
primary object, and if the punishment of death precludes atten¬ 
tion to that object, the punishment of death is wrong. 

To take the life of a fellow creature is to exert the utmost pos¬ 
sible power which man can possess over man. It is to perform 
an action the most serious and awful which a human being can 
perform. Respecting such an action then, can any truth be more 
manifest than that the dictates of Christianity ought especially to 
be taken into account 1 If these dictates are rightly urged upon 
us in the minor concerns of life, can any man doubt whether they 
ought to influence us in the greatest 1 Yet what is the fact ? Why 
that in defending capital punishments, these dictates are almost 
placed out of the question. We hear a great deal about security 
of property and life, a great deal about the necessity of making 
examples,—but almost nothing about the Moral Law. It might 
be imagined that upon this subject our religion imposed no obliga¬ 
tions ; for nearly every argument that is urged in favour of capital 
punishments would be as valid and as appropriate in the mouth 
of a pagan as in our own. Can this be right ? Is it conceivable, 
that in the exercise of the most tremendous agency which is in 





Chap. 13. GREATER CRIMINALS NEGLECTED. 


451 


the power of man, it can be right to exclude all reference to the 
expressed will of God ? 

F I acknowledge that this exclusion of the Christian law from the 
defences of the punishment, is to me almost a conclusive argument 
that the punishment is wrong. Nothing that is right can need 
such an exclusion; and we should not practise it if it were not 
for a secret perception, that to apply the pure requisitions of 
Christianity would not serve the purpose of the advocate. Look 
for a moment upon the capital offender and upon ourselves. He, 
a depraved and deep violator of the law of God,—one who is ob¬ 
noxious to the vengeance of heaven,—one however whom Christ 
came peculiarly to call to repentance and to save.— Ourselves, his 
brethren,—brethren by the relationship of nature,—brethren in 
some degree in offences against God,—brethren especially in the 
trembling hope of a common salvation. How ought beings so 
situated to act towards one another 1 Ought we to kill or to amend 
him ] Ought we, so far as is in our power, to cut off his future 
hope, or, so far as is in our power, to strengthen the foundation of 
that hope ] Is it the reasonable or decent office of one candidate 
for the mercy of God, to hang his fellow candidate upon a gibbet! 
I am serious, though men of levity may laugh. If such men 
reject Christianity, I do not address them. If they admit its 
truth, let them manfully show that its principles should not thus 
be applied. 

No one disputes that the reformation of offenders is desirable, 
though some may not allow it to be the primary object. For the 
purposes of reformation we have recourse to constant oversight,— 
to classification of offenders,—to regular labour,—to religious in¬ 
struction. For whom ? For minor criminals. Do not the greater 
criminals need reformation too ] If all these endeavours are ne¬ 
cessary to effect the amendment of the less depraved, are they not 
necessary to effect the amendment of the more] But we stop 
just where our exertions are most needed; as if the reformation 
of a bad man was of the less consequence as the intensity of his 
wickedness became greater. If prison discipline and a peniten¬ 
tiary be needful for sharpers and pickpockets, surely they are 
necessary for murderers and highwaymen. Yet we reform the 
one and hang the other! 

Since then so much is sacrificed to extend the terror of exam¬ 
ple, we ought to be indisputably certain that the terror of capital 


452 


CAPITAL PUNISHMENTS 


Essay 3 . 


punishments is greater than that of all others, We ought not 
certainly to sacrifice the requisitions of the Christian law, unless 
we know that a regard to them would be attended with public 
evil. 1 Do we know this 1 Are we indisputably certain that ca¬ 
pital punishments are more efficient as examples than any others ] 
We are not. We do not know from experience, and we cannot 
know without it. In England, the experiment has not been made. 
The punishment therefore is wrong in us, whatever it might be in 
a more experienced people. For it is wrong unless it can be 
shown to be right. It is not a neutral affair. If it is not indis¬ 
pensably necessary, it is unwarrantable. And since we do not 
know that it is indispensable, it is, so far as we are concerned, 
unwarrantable. 

And with respect to the experience of other nations, who will 
affirm that crimes have been increased in consequence of the di¬ 
minished frequency of executions'? Who will affirm that the 
laws and punishments of America are not as effectual as our own ] 
Yet they have abolished capital punishments for all private crimes 
except murder of the first degree. Where then is our pretension 
to a justification of our own practice 1 —It is a satisfaction that so 
many facts and arguments are before the public which show the 
inefficacy of the punishment of death in this country: and this is 
one reason why they are not introduced here. “ There are no 
practical despisers of death like those who touch, and taste, and 
handle death daily, by daily committing capital offences. They 
make a jest of death in all its forms: and all its terrors are in 
their mouths a scorn.” 2 “ Profligate criminals, such as common 
thieves and highwaymen,” “ have always been accustomed to 
look upon the gibbet as a lot very likely to fall to them. When 
it does fall to them therefore, they consider themselves onlv as 
not quite so lucky as some of their companions, and submit to 
their fortune without any other uneasiness than what may arise 
from the fear of death; a fear which even by such worthless 
wretches we frequently see can be so easily and so very com¬ 
pletely conquered.” A man some time ago was executed for 
uttering forged bank notes, and the body was delivered to his 
friends. What was the effect of the example upon them ? Why, 

1 We ought not for any reason to do this,—but I speak in the present paragraph 
of the pretensions of expediency. 

2 Irving’s Orations. 


Chap. 13. NOT EFFICIENT AS EXAMPLES. 


453 


with the corpse lying on a bed before them, they were themselves 
seized in the act of again uttering forged bank notes. The testi¬ 
mony upon a subject like this, of a person who has had probably 
greater and better opportunities of ascertaining the practical effi¬ 
ciency of punishments than any other individual in Europe, is of 
great importance. “ Capital convicts,” says Elizabeth Fry, “ pa¬ 
cify their conscience with the dangerous and most fallacious notion 
that the violent death which awaits them will serve as a full 
atonement for all their sins .” 1 It is their passport to felicity,— 
the purchase-money of heaven! Of this deplorable notion the 
effect is doubly bad. First, it makes them comparatively little 
afraid of death, because they necessarily regard it as so much 
less an evil: and secondly, it encourages them to go on in the 
commission of crimes, because they imagine that the number or 
enormity of them, however great, will not preclude them from 
admission into heaven. Of both these mischiefs the punishment 
of death is the immediate source. Substitute another punishment, 
and they will not think that that is an “ atonement for their sins,” 
and will not receive their present encouragement to continue their 
crimes. But with respect to example, this unexceptionable au¬ 
thority speaks in decided language. “ The terror of example is 
very generally rendered abortive by the predestinarian notion, 
vulgarly prevalent among thieves, that ' if they are to be hanged 
they are to be hanged, and nothing can prevent it.’ ” 2 It may be 
said that the same notion might be attached to any other punish¬ 
ment, and that thus that other would become abortive; but there 
is little reason to expect this, at least in the same degree. The 
notion is now connected expressly with hanging, and it is not 
probable that the same notion would ever be transferred with 
equal power to another penalty.—Where then is the overwhelming 
evidence of utility, which alone, even in the estimate of expedi¬ 
ency, can justify the punishment of death ? It cannot be adduced; 
it does not exist. 

But if capital punishments do little good, they do much harm. 
“ The frequent public destruction of life has a fearfully hardening 
effect upon those whom it is intended to intimidate. While it 
excites in them the spirit of revenge, it seldom fails to lower their 
estimate of the life of man, and renders them less afraid of taking 
it away in their turn by acts of personal violence .” 3 This is just 

1 Observations on the visiting, &c. of Female Prisoners, p. 73. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid. 



454 


PERNICIOUS EFFECTS OF 


Essay 3 . 


what a consideration of the principles of the human mind would 
teach us to expect. To familiarize men with the destruction of 
life, is to teach them not to abhor that destruction. It is the legi¬ 
timate process of the mind in other things. He who blushes and 
trembles the first time he utters a lie, learns by repetition to do it 
with callous indifference. Now you execute a man in order to do 
good by the spectacle,—-while the practical consequence it appears 
is, that bad men turn away from the spectacle more prepared to 
commit violence than before. It will be said, that this effect is 
produced only upon those who are already profligate, and that a 
salutary example is held out to the public. But the answer is at 
hand,—The public do not usually begin with capital crimes. These 
are committed after the person has become depraved,—that is, 
after he has arrived at that state in which an execution will harden 
rather than deter him. We “ lower their estimate of the life of 
man.” It cannot be doubted. It is the inevitable tendency of 
executions. There is much of justice in an observation of Becca- 
ria’s. “ Is it not absurd that the laws which detect and punish 
homicide should, in order to prevent murder, publicly commit 
murder themselves]” 1 fBy the procedures of a court, we virtu¬ 
ally and perhaps literally expatiate upon the sacredness of human 
life, upon the dreadful guilt of taking it away,—and then forth¬ 
with take it away ourselves! It is no subject of wonder that this 
“lowers the estimate of the life of man.” The next sentence of 
the writer upon whose testimony I offer these comments is of tre¬ 
mendous import:—‘#There is much reason to believe that our 
public executions have had a direct and positive tendency to pro¬ 
mote both murder and suicide .” “Why, if a considerable time 
elapse between the trial and the execution, do we find the severity 
of the public changed into compassion 1 For the same reason 
that a master, if he do not beat his slave in the moment of resent¬ 
ment, often feels a repugnance to the beating him at all.” 2 This 
is remarkable. If executions were put off for a twelvemonth, I 
doubt whether the public would bear them. But why if they were 
just and right 1 Respecting “ the contempt and indignation with 
which every one looks on an executioner,” Beccaria says the reason 
is, “ that in a secret corner of the mind, in which the original im¬ 
pressions of nature are still preserved, men discover a sentiment 
which tells them that their lives are not lawfully in the power of 
1 Essay on Capital Punishments, c. 2S. 2 Godwin : Enq. Pol. Just. v. 2, p. 726. 


Chap . 13 . 


PUBLIC EXECUTIONS.—PAUL. 


455 


any one.” 1 Let him who has the power of influencing the legis¬ 
lature of the country or public opinion, (and who has not]) con¬ 
sider the responsibility which this declaration implies, if he lifts 
his voice for the punishment of death! 

But further: the execution of one offender excites in others 
“ the spirit of revenge.” This is extremely natural. Many a 
soldier, I dare say, has felt impelled to revenge the death of his 
comrades ; and the member of a gang of thieves, who has fewer 
restraints of principle, is likely to feel it too. But upon whom is 
his revenge inflicted] Upon the legislature, or the jury, or the 
witnesses] No, but upon the public,—upon the first person 
whose life is in their power and which they are prompted to take 
away. You execute a man then in order to save the lives of 
others; and the effect is that you add new inducements to take 
the lives of others away. 

Of a system which is thus unsound,—unsound because it rejects 
some of the plainest dictates of the Moral Law,—and unsound 
because so many of its effects are bad, I should be ready to con¬ 
clude, with no other evidence, that it was utterly inexpedient and 
impolitic,—that as it was bad in morals, it was bad in policy. 
And such appears to be the fact.—“ It is incontrovertibly proved 
that punishments of a milder and less injurious nature are calcu¬ 
lated to produce, for every good purpose, a far more powerful 
effect.”* 

Finally.—•“ The best of substitutes for capital punishment will 
be found in that judicious management of criminals in prison which 
it is the object of the present tract to recommend;” 3 which ma¬ 
nagement is Christian management,—a system in which reforma¬ 
tion is made the first object, but in which it is found that in order 
to effect reformation, severity to hardened offenders is needful. 
Thus then we arrive at the goal:—we begin with urging the 
system that Christianity dictates as right; we conclude by dis¬ 
covering that as it is the right system, so it is practically the best. 


But an argument in favour of capital punishments has been 
raised from the Christian Scriptures themselves.—" If I be an 

1 Beccaria: Essay on Capital Punishments, chap. 28. 

3 Observations on the visiting, Sec. of Female Prisoners, p. 75. 

Ibid. p. 76. 



GROTIUS.—OF MURDER. Essay 3. 

offender, or have committed any thing worthy of death, I refuse 
not to die.” 1 This is the language of an innocent person who was 
persecuted by malicious enemies. It was an assertion of inno¬ 
cence ; an assertion that he had done nothing worthy of death. 
The case had no reference to the question of the lawfulness of 
capital punishment, but to the question of the lawfulness of in¬ 
flicting it upon him. Nor can it be supposed that it was the 
design of the speaker to convey any sanction of the punishment 
itself, because the design would have been wholly foreign to the 
occasion. The argument of Grotius goes perhaps too far for his 
own purpose. “ If I be an offender , or have done any thing 
worthy of death, I refuse not to die.” He refused not to die, 
then, if he were an offender, if he had done one of the “ many and 
grievous things” which the Jews charged upon him. But will it 
be contended that he meant to sanction the destruction of every 
person who was thus “ an offender!”—His enemies were en¬ 
deavouring to take his life; and he, in earnest asseveration 
of his innocence, says,—If you can fix your charges upon me ? 
take it. 

Grotius adduces, as an additional evidence of the sanction of the 
punishment by Christianity, this passage,—“ Servants, be subject 
to your masters with all fear, &c.—What glory is it if when ye be 
buffeted for jmur faults ye shall take it patiently 1 but if when ye 
do well and suffer for it ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with 
God,” 2 Some arguments disprove the doctrine which they are 
advanced to support, and this surely is one of them. It surely 
cannot be true that Christianity sanctions capital punishments, if 
this is the best evidence of the sanction that can be found. 3 

Some persons again suppose that there is a sort of moral obliga¬ 
tion to take the life of a murderer :—“ Whoso sheddeth man’s 
blood, by man shall his blood be shed.” This supposition is an 
example of that want of advertence to the supremacy of the Christ¬ 
ian morality, which in the first Essay we had occasion to notice. 
Our law is the Christian law ; and if Christianity by its precepts 
or spirit prohibits the punishment of death, it cannot be made 
right to Christians by referring to a commandment which was 
given to Noah. There is, in truth, some inconsistency in the 

1 Acts, 25,11; see Grotius : Rights of War and Peace. 

2 1 Pet. ii. 18, 20. 

3 “ Wickliffe,” says Priestley, “ seems to have thought it wrong to take away the 
life of man on any account.” 


Chap. 13. PUNISHMENT OF DEATH IRREVOCABLE. 457 

reasonings of those who urge the passage. The fourth, fifth, and 
sixth verses of Genesis ix., each contains a law delivered to 
Noah. Of these three laws, we habitually disregard two; how 
then can we with reason insist on the authority of the third? 1 

After all, if the command were in full force, it would not justify 
our laws; for they shed the blood of many who have not shed 
blood themselves. 

And this conducts us to the observation that the grounds upon 
which the United States of America still affix death to murder of 
the first degree, do not appear very clear. For if other punish¬ 
ments are found effectual in deterring from crimes of all degrees of 
enormity up to the last, how is it shown that they would not 
be effectual in the last also 1 There is nothing in the constitution 
of the human mind to indicate that a murderer is influenced by 
passions which require that the counteracting power should be 
totally different from that which is employed to restrain every other 
crime. The difference too in the personal guilt of the perpetrators 
of some other crimes and of murder is sometimes extremely small. 
At any rate it is not so great as to imply a necessity for a punish¬ 
ment totally dissimilar. The truth appears to be, that men 
entertain a sort of indistinct notion that murder is a crime which 
requires a peculiar punishment, which notion is often founded not 
upon any process of investigation, by which the propriety of this 
peculiar punishment is discovered, but upon some vague ideas 
respecting the nature of the crime itself. But the dictate of phi¬ 
losophy is, to employ that punishment which will be most effica¬ 
cious. Efficacy is the test of its propriety; and in estimating this 
efficacy the character of the crime is a foreign consideration. 
Again, the dictate of Christianity is, to employ that punishment 
which while it deters the spectator, reforms the man. Now 
neither philosophy nor Christianity appears to be consulted in 
punishing murder with death because it is murder. And it is worthy 
of especial remembrance, that the purpose for which Grotius 
defends the punishment of death, is that he may be able to defend 
the practice of war :—a bad foundation if this be its best! 

It is one objection to capital punishment that it is absolutely 
irrevocable. If an innocent man suffers it is impossible to recall 

1 Indeed it would almost appear from Genesis ix. 5, that even accidental homicide 
was thus to he punished with death; and if so, it is wholly disregarded in our present 
practice. 


458 PUNISHMENT OF DEATH IRREVOCABLE. Essay 3. 


the sentence of the law. Not that this consideration alone is a 
sufficient argument against it, but it is one argument amongst the 
many. In a certain sense indeed all personal punishments are 
irrevocable. The man who by a mistaken verdict has been con¬ 
fined twelve months in a prison, cannot be repossessed of the 
time. But if irrevocable punishments cannot be dispensed with, 
they should not be made needlessly common, and especially those 
should be regarded with jealousy which admit of no removal or 
relaxation in the event of subsequently discovered innocence, or 
subsequent reformation. It is not sufficiently considered that a 
jury or a court of justice never know that a prisoner is guilty.— 
A witness may know it who saw him commit the act, but others 
cannot know it who depend upon testimony, for testimony may be 
mistaken or false. All verdicts are founded upon probabilities,— 
probabilities which, though they sometimes approach to certainty, 
never attain to it^ r Surely it is a serious thing for one man to 
destroy another upon grounds short of absolute certainty of his 
guilt./There is a sort of indecency attached to it,—an assumption 
of a degree of authority which ought to be exercised only by him 
whose knowledge is infallibly true. It is unhappily certain that 
some have been put to death for actions -which they never com¬ 
mitted. At one assizes, we believe, not less than six persons 
were hanged, of whom it was afterwards discovered that they 
were entirely innocent. A deplorable instance is given by Dr. 
Smollett:—“ Rape and murder were perpetrated upon an unfor¬ 
tunate woman in the neighbourhood of London, and an innocent 
man suffered death for this complicated outrage, while the real 
criminals assisted at his execution, heard him appeal to heaven 
for his innocence, and in the character of friends embraced him 
while he stood on the brink of eternity.” 1 Others equally inno¬ 
cent, but whose innocence has /lever been made known, have 
doubtless shared the same fate. ^These are tremendous considera¬ 
tions, and ought to make men solemnly pause before, upon 
grounds necessarily uncertain, they take away that life which God 
has given, and which they cannot restore./ 

Of the merely philosophical speculation^ respecting the rectitude 
of capital punishments, whether affirmative or negative, I would 
say little ; for they in truth deserve little. One advantage indeed 
attends a brief review,—that the reader will perceive how little 

1 Hist. Eng. v. 3, p. 318. 


Chap. 13 . 


MABLY.—ROUSSEAU.—PASTORET. 


459 


the speculations of philosophers will aid us in the investigation of 
a Christian question. 

The philosopher however would prove what the Christian can¬ 
not ; and Mably accordingly says, “ In the state of nature, I have 
a right to take the life of him who lifts his arm against mine. 
This right, upon entering into society , I surrender to the magis¬ 
trate!' If we conceded the truth of the first position, (which we 
do not,) the conclusion from it is an idle sophism; for it is obvi¬ 
ously preposterous to say, that because I have a right to take the 
life of a man who will kill me if I do not kill him, the state, which 
is in no such danger, has a right to do the same. That danger 
which constitutes the alleged right in the individual, does not exist 
in the case of the state. The foundation of the right is gone, and 
where can be the right itself! Having, however, been thus told 
that the state has a right to kill, we are next informed, by Filan- 
gieri, that the criminal has no right to live. He says, “ If I have 
a right to kill another man, he has lost his right to life!' 1 Rous¬ 
seau goes a little further. He tells us, that in consequence of the 
“ social contract” which we make with the sovereign on entering 
into society, “ Life is a conditional grant of the state :” 2 so that we 
hold our lives, it seems, only as “ tenants at will,” and must give 
them up whenever their owner, the state, requires them. The 
reader has probably hitherto thought that he retained his head by 
some other tenure. 

The right of taking an offender’s life being thus proved, Mably 
shows us how its exercise becomes expedient. “ A murderer,” 
says he, “ in taking away his enemy’s life, believes he does him 
the greatest possible evil. Death, then, in the murderer’s esti¬ 
mation, is the greatest of evils. By the fear of death, therefore, 
the excesses of hatred and revenge must be restrained.” If lan¬ 
guage wilder than this can be held, Rousseau, I think, holds it. 
He says, “ The preservation of both sides (the criminal and the 
state) is incompatible; one of the two must perish.” How it 
happens that a nation “ must perish,” if a convict is not hanged, 
the reader, I suppose, will not know. Even philosophy, how¬ 
ever, concedes as much : “ Absolute necessity alone!' says Pasto- 
ret, “ can justify the punishment of Death;” and Rousseau him¬ 
self acknowledges that “ we have no right to put to death, even 
for the sake of example, any but those who cannot be permitted to 

1 Montagu on Punishment of Death. 2 Contr. Soc. ii. 5, Montagu. 



460 


BECCARIA.—RECAPITULATION. 


Essay 3 . 


live without danger.” Beccaria limits the right to one specific 
case,—and in doing this he appears to sacrifice his own principle, 
(deduced from that splendid fiction, the “ social contract,”) which 
is, that “ the punishment of death is not authorized by any 
right:—no such right exists.” 

For myself, I perceive little value in such speculations to what¬ 
ever conclusions they lead, for there are shorter and surer roads 
to truth; but it is satisfactory to find that even upon the princi¬ 
ples of such philosophers, the right to put criminals to death is 
not easily made out. 


The argument then respecting the punishment of death is both 
distinct and short. 

It rejects, by its very nature, a regard to the first and greatest 
object of punishment. 

It does not attain either of the other objects so well as they may 
be attained by other means. 

It is attended with numerous evils peculiarly its own. 



CHAPTER XIV. 


RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 

A large number of persons embark from Europe, and colonize 
an uninhabited territory in the South Sea. They erect a govern¬ 
ment,—suppose a republic,—and make all persons, of whatever 
creed, eligible to the legislature. The community prospers and 
increases. In process of time a member of the legislature, who is 
a disciple of John Wesley, persuades himself that it will tend to 
the promotion of religion that the preachers of methodism should 
be supported by a national tax; that their stipends should be 
sufficiently ample to prevent them from necessary attention to any 
business but that of religion; and that accordingly they shall be 
precluded from the usual pursuits of commerce and from the pro¬ 
fessions. He proposes the measure. It is contended against by 
the episcopalian members, and the independents, and the catho¬ 
lics, and the Unitarians,—by all but the adherents to his own creed. 
They insist upon the equality of civil and religious rights, but in 
vain. The majority prove to be methodists; they support the 
measure : the law is enacted; and methodism becomes thence¬ 
forth the religion of the state. This is a Religious Establishment. 

But it is a religious establishment in its best form; and per¬ 
haps none ever existed of which the constitution was so simple 
and so pure. During one portion of the papal history, the Romish 
church was indeed not so much an “ establishment” of the state 
as a separate and independent constitution. For though some 
species of alliance subsisted, yet the Romanists did not acknow¬ 
ledge, as protestants now do, that the power of establishing a 
religion resides in the state. 

In the present day, other immunities are possessed by ecclesi¬ 
astical establishments than those which are necessary to consti¬ 
tute the institution,—such, for example, as that of exclusive eligi- 



462 


THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH. 


Essay 3 . 


bility to the legislature: and other alliances with the civil power 
exist than that which necessarily results from any preference of a 
particular faith,—such as that of placing ecclesiastical patronage 
in the hands of a government, or of those who are under its 
influence. From these circumstances it happens, that in inquiring 
into the propriety of religious establishments, we cannot confine 
ourselves to the inquiry whether they would be proper in their 
simplest form, but whether they are proper as they usually exist. 
And this is so much the more needful, because there is little 
reason to expect that when once an ecclesiastical establishment 
has been erected,—when once a particular church has been 
selected for the preference and patronage of the civil power,—that 
preference and patronage will be confined to those circumstances 
which are necessary to the subsistence of an establishment at all. 

It is sufficiently obvious that it matters nothing to the existence 
of an established church, what the faith of that church is, or what 
is the form of its government. It is not the creed which consti¬ 
tutes the establishment, but the preference of the civil power; and 
accordingly the reader will be pleased to bear in mind that neither 
in this chapter nor in the next have we any concern with religious 
opinions. Our business is not with churches but with church 
establishments. 

The actual history of religious establishments in Christian coun¬ 
tries, does not differ in essence from that which we have supposed 
in the South Sea. They have been erected by the influence or 
the assistance of the civil power. In one country a religion may 
have owed its political supremacy to the superstitions of a prince ; 
and in another to his policy or ambition : but the effect has been 
similar. Whether superstition or polic}^, the contrivances of a 
priesthood, or the fortuitous predominance of a party, have given 
rise to the established church, is of comparatively little conse¬ 
quence to the fundamental principles of the institution. 

Of the divine right of a particular church to supremacy I say 
nothing; because none with whom I am at present concerned to 
argue imagine that it exists. 

The only ground upon which it appears that religious establish¬ 
ments can be advocated are, first, that of example or approbation 
in the primitive churches; and, secondly, that of public utility. 

I. The primitive church was not a religious establishment in 
any sense or in any degree. No establishment existed until the 


THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH. 


463 


Chap. 14. 


church had lost much of its purity. Nor is there any expression 
in the New Testament, direct or indirect, which would lead a 
reader to suppose that Christ or his apostles regarded an esta¬ 
blishment as an eligible institution. “We find, in his religion, no 
scheme of building up a hierarchy or of ministering to the views 
of human governments .”—“ Our religion, as it came out of the 
hands of its Founder and his apostles, exhibited a complete ab¬ 
straction from all views either of ecclesiastical or civil policy." 1 The 
evidence which these facts supply respecting the moral character 
of religious establishments, whatever be its weight, tends mani¬ 
festly to show that that character is not good. I do not say 
because Christianity exhibited this “ complete abstraction,” that 
it therefore necessarily condemned establishments; but I say that 
the bearing and the tendency of this negative testimony is against 
them. 

In the discourses and writings of the first teachers of our religion 
we find such absolute disinterestedness, so little disposition to 
assume political superiority, that to have become the members of 
an established church would certainly have been inconsistent in 
them. It is indeed almost inconceivable that they could ever have 
desired the patronage of the state for themselves or for their con¬ 
verts. No man conceives that Paul or John could have partici¬ 
pated in the exclusion of any portion of the Christian church from 
advantages which they themselves enjoyed. Every man per¬ 
ceives that to have done this, would have been to assume a new 
character, a character which they had never exhibited before, and 
which was incongruous with their former principles and motives 
of action. But why is this incongruous with the apostolic cha¬ 
racter unless it is incongruous with Christianity 1 Upon this 
single ground, therefore, there is reason for the sentiment of 
“ many well informed persons, that it seems extremely question¬ 
able whether the religion of Jesus Christ admits of any civil esta¬ 
blishment at all.” 2 

I lay stress upon these considerations. We all know that 
much may be learnt respecting human duty by a contemplation of 
the spirit and temper of Christianity as it was exhibited by its 
first teachers. When the spirit and temper is compared with 
the essential character of religious establishments, they are found 

1 Paley : Evidences of Christianity, p. 2, c. 2. 

2 Simpson’s Plea for Religion and the Sacred Writings. 


464 


ADVANTAGES AND EVILS, & C. 


Essay 3 . 


to be incongruous,—foreign to one another,—having no natural 
relationship or similarity. I should regard such facts, in reference 
to any question of rectitude, as of great importance; but upon a 
subject so intimately connected with religion itself, the importance 
is peculiarly great. 

II. The question of the utility of religious establishments is to 
be decided by a comparison of their advantages and their evils. 

Of their advantages, the first and greatest appears to be that 
they provide, or are assumed to provide, religious instruction for 
the whole community. If this instruction be left by the state to 
be cared for by each Christian church as it possesses the zeal or 
the means, it may be supposed that many districts will be desti¬ 
tute of any public religious instruction. At least the state cannot 
be assured before hand that every district will be supplied. And 
when it is considered how great is the importance of regular 
public worship to the virtue of a people, it is not to be denied 
that a scheme which by destroying an establishment, would make 
that instruction inadequate or uncertain, is so far to be regarded 
as of questionable expediency. But the effect which would be pro¬ 
duced by dispensing with establishments is to be estimated, so far 
as is in our power, by facts. Now dissenters are in the situation 
of separate unestablished churches. If they do not provide for the 
public officers of religion voluntarily, they will not be provided 
for. Yet where is any considerable body of dissenters to be 
found who do not provide themselves with a chapel and a preacher ? 
And if those churches which are not established, do in fact provide 
public instruction, how is it shown that it would not be provided 
although there were no established religion in a state 1 Besides, 
the dissenters from an established church provide this under 
peculiar disadvantages; for after paying, in common with others 
their quota to the state religion, they have to pay in addition to 
their own. But perhaps it will be said that dissenters from a 
state religion are actuated by a zeal with which the professors of 
that religion are not; and that the legal provision supplies the 
deficiency of zeal. If this be said, the inquiry imposes itself,— 
How does this disproportion of zeal arise 1 Why should dissenters 
be more zealous than churchmen 1 What account can be given of 
the matter, but that there is something in the patronage of the 
state which induces apathy upon the church that it prefers 1 One 
other account may indeed be offered,—that to be a dissenter is to 


Chap . 14, THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH IN IRELAND. 465 


be a positive religionist, whilst to be a churchman is frequently 
only to be nothing else; that an establishment embraces all who 
are not embraced by others; and that if those whom other 
churches do not include were not cared for by the state religion, 
they wrnuld not be cared for at all. This is an argument of ap¬ 
parent weight, but the effect of reasoning is to diminish that 
weight. For what is meant by “ including,” by “ caring for,” 
the indifferent and irreligious 1 An established church only offers 
them instruction; it does not “ compel them to come in ;” and we 
have just seen that this offer is made by unestablished churches 
also. Who doubts whether in a district that is sufficient to fill a 
temple of the state religion, there would be found persons to offer 
a temple of public worship though the state did not compel it 1 
Who doubts whether this would be the case if the district were 
inhabited by dissenters 1 and if it w r ould not be done supposing 
the inhabitants to belong to the state religion, the conclusion is 
inevitable, that there is a tendency to indifference resulting from 
the patronage of the state. 

Let us listen to the testimony of Archbishop Newcome. He 
speaks of Ireland, and says “ Great numbers of country parishes 
are without churches, notwithstanding the largeness and frequency 
of parliamentary grants for building them;” but “ meeting houses 
and Romish chapels which are built and repaired with greater 
zeal, are in sufficient numbers about the country.” 1 This is 
remarkable testimony indeed. That church which is patronised 
and largely assisted by the state, does not provide places for 
public worship : those churches which are not patronised and not 
assisted by the state, do provide them, and provide them in “ suffi¬ 
cient numbers” and “ with greater zeal.” What then becomes of 
the argument, that a church establishment is necessary in order 
to provide instruction which would not otherwise be provided 1 

Yet here one point must be conceded. It does not follow 
because one particular state religion is thus deficient that none 
would be more exemplary. The fault may not be so much in 
religious establishments as such, as in that particular establish¬ 
ment which obtains in the instance before us. 

Kindred to the testimony of the Irish primate is the more 
cautious language of the archdeacon of Carlisle:—“ I do not 
know,” says he, “ that it is in any degree true that the influence 

1 See Gisborne’s Duties of Men. 

2 H 



466 ' AMERICA.—ADVANTAGES AND Essay 3. 

of religion is the greatest where there are the fewest dissenters.” 1 
This I suppose may lawfully be interpreted into positive language, 
—that the influence of religion is the greatest where there are 
numerous dissenters. But if numerous adherents to unestablished 
churches be favourable to religion, it would appear that although 
there were none but unestablished churches in a country, the 
influence of religion would be kept up. If established churches are 
practically useful to religion, what more reasonable than to expect 
that where they possessed the more exclusive operation, their uti¬ 
lity would be the greatest ? Yet the contrary it appears is the fact. 
It may indeed be urged that it is the existence of a state religion 
which animates the zeal of the other churches, and that in this 
manner the state religion does good. To which it is a sufficient 
answer, that the benefit, if it is thus occasioned, is collateral and 
accidental, and offers no testimony in favour of establishments as 
such;—and this is our concern. Besides, there are many sects 
to animate the zeal of one another, even though none were pa¬ 
tronised by the state. 

To estimate the relative influence of religion in two countries 
is no easy task. Yet I believe if we compare its influence in the 
United States with that which it possesses in most of the Euro¬ 
pean countries which possess state religions, it will be found that 
the balance is in favour of the community in which there is no 
established church : at any rate, the balance is not so much against 
it as to afford any evidence in favour of a state religion. A 
traveller in America has remarked, “ There is mere religion in 
the United States than in England, and more in England than in 
Italy. The closer the monopoly, the less abundant the supply.” 2 
Another traveller writes almost as if he had anticipated the pre¬ 
sent disquisition—“ It has been often said, that the disinclination 
of the heart to religious truth renders a state establishment abso¬ 
lutely necessary for the purpose of christianizing the country. Ire¬ 
land and America can furnish abundant evidence of the fallacy of 
such an hypothesis. In the one country we see an ecclesiastical 
establishment of the most costly description utterly unoperative 
in dispelling ignorance or refuting error; in the other no establish¬ 
ment of any kind, and yet religion making daily and hourly 
progress, promoting inquiry, diffusing knowledge, strengthening 
the weak, and mollifying the hardened.” 3 

1 Paley: Evidences of Christianity. 2 Hall. 3 Duncan’s Trav. in America. 


Chap. 14. DISADVANTAGES OF ESTABLISHMENTS. 467 


In immediate connection with this subject is the argument that 
Dr. Paley places at the head of those which he advances in favour 
of religious establishments,—that the knowledge and profession of 
Christianity cannot he upholden without a clergy supported by 
legal provision, and belonging to one sect of Christians. 1 The just¬ 
ness of this proposition is founded upon the necessity of research. 
It is said that “ Christianity is an historical religion,” and that 
the truth of its history must be investigated; that in order to 
vindicate its authority and to ascertain its truths, leisure and 
education and learning are indispensable,—so that such “ an 
order of clergy is necessary to perpetuate the evidences of revela¬ 
tion, and to interpret the obscurity of those ancient writings in 
which the religion is contained.” To all this there is one plain 
objection, that when once the evidences of religion are adduced 
and made public, when once the obscurity of the ancient writings 
is interpreted, the work, so far as discovery is concerned, is done; 
and it can hardly be imagined that an established clergy is neces¬ 
sary in perpetuity to do that which in its own nature can be done 
but once. Whatever may have been the validity of this argu¬ 
ment in other times, when few but the clergy possessed any 
learning, or when the evidences of religion had not been sought 
out, it possesses little validity now. These evidences are brought 
before the world in a form so clear and accessible to literary and 
good men, that in the present state of society there is little reason 
to fear they will be lost for want of an established church. Nor 
is it to be forgotten, that with respect to our own country, the 
best defences of Christianity which exist in the language, have 
not been the work either of the established clergy or of members 
of the established church. The expression that such “ an order 
of clergy is necessary to perpetuate the evidences of revela¬ 
tion,” appears to contain an illusion. Evidences can in no other 
sense be perpetuated than by being again and again brought 
before the public. If this be the meaning, it belongs rather to the 
teaching of religious truths than to their discovery; but it is upon 
the discovery, it is upon the opportunity of research, that the 
argument is founded: and it is particularly to be noticed, that 
this is the primary argument which Paley adduces in deciding 
“ the first and most fundamental question upon the subject.” 

It pleases Providence to employ human agency in the vindica- 
1 See Mor. & Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 10. 


468 EFFECTS OF AN ALLIANCE Essay 3. 

tion and diffusion of his truth; but to employ the expression “ the 
knowledge and profession of Christianity” cannot be upholden 
without an established clergy approaches to irreverence. Even 
a rejector of Christianity says, “ If public worship be conform¬ 
able to reason, reason without doubt will prove adequate to its 
vindication and support. If it be from God it is profanation to 
imagine that it stands in need of the alliance of the state.” 1 And 
it is clearly untrue in fact; because, without such a clergy, it is 
actually upheld, and because, during the three first centuries, the 
religion subsisted and spread and prospered without any encou¬ 
ragement from the state. And it is remarkable too that the 
diffusion of Christianity in our own times in pagan nations, is 
effected less by the clergy of established churches than by others. 2 

Such are amongst the principal of the direct advantages of 
religious establishments as they are urged by those who advocate 
them. Some others will be noticed in inquiring into the opposite 
question of their disadvantages. 

These disadvantages respect either the institution itself,—or 
religion generally,—or the civil welfare of a people. 

I. The institution itself. “ The single end we ought to propose 
by religious establishments is, the preservation and communica¬ 
tion of religious knowledge. Every other idea, and every other 
end, that have been mixed with this, as the making of the church 
an engine, or even an ally, of the state; converting it into the 
means of strengthening or diffusing influence; or regarding it as 
a support of regal, in opposition to popular forms of government; 
have served only to debase the institution, and to introduce into it 
numerous *corruptions and abuses .” 3 This is undoubtedly true. 
Now we affirm that this “ debasement of the institution,” this 
“ introduction of numerous corruptions and abuses,” is absolutely 
inseparable from religious establishments as they ordinarily exist; 
that wherever and whenever a state so prefers and patronises a 
particular church, these debasements and abuses and corruptions 
will inevitably arise. 

“ An engine or ally of the state.” How will you frame—I will 
not say any religious establishment but—any religious establish- 

1 Godwin’s Pol. Just. 2, 608. 

2 In the preceding discussion, I have left out all reference to the proper qualifica¬ 
tion or appointment of Christian ministers, and have assumed (hut without conceding) 
that the magistrate is at liberty to adjust those matters if he pleases. 

3 Paley: Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 10. 


Chap. 14. OF A CHURCH WITH THE STATE. 


469 


ment that approaches to the ordinary character, without making 
it an engine or ally of the state ] Alliance is involved in the very 
idea of the institution. The state selects, and prefers, and grants 
privileges to, a particular church. The continuance of these privi¬ 
leges depends upon the continuance of the state in its present 
principles. If the state is altered, the privileges are endangered 
or may be swept away. The privileged church therefore is in¬ 
terested in supporting the state, in standing by it against opposi¬ 
tion ; or which is the same thing, that church becomes an ally of 
the state. You cannot separate the effect from the cause. Wherever 
the state prefers and patronises one church, there will be an alli¬ 
ance between the state and that church. There may be variations 
in the strength of this alliance. The less the patronage of the 
state, the less strong the alliance will be. Or there may be emer¬ 
gencies in which the alliance is suspended by the influence of 
stronger interests; but still the alliance, as a general consequence 
of the preference of the state, will inevitably subsist. When 
therefore Dr. Paley says that to make an establishment an ally of 
the state is to introduce into it numerous corruptions and abuses, 
he in fact says that to make an establishment at all is to introduce 
into a church numerous corruptions and abuses. 

It matters nothing what the doctrines or constitution of the 
church may be. The only point is, the alliance, and its degree. 
It may be episcopal, or presbyterian, or independent; but wherever 
the degree of alliance,—that is of preference and patronage, is 
great,—theTe the abuses and corruptions will be great. In this 
country during a part of the seventeenth century independency 
became, in effect, the established church. It became of course an 
ally of the state; and fought from its pulpits the battles of the 
state. Nor will any one I suppose deny that this alliance made 
independency wxxrse than it was before;—that it “ introduced into 
it corruptions and abuses.” 

The less strict the alliance, the fewer the corruptions that spring 
from an alliance. One state may impose a test to distinguish the 
ministers of the preferred church, and leave the selection to the 
church itself: another may actually appoint some or all of the 
ministers. These differences in the closeness of the alliance will 
produce differences in the degree of corruption; but alliance and 
corruption in both cases there will be. He who receives a legal 
provision from the minister of the day, will lend his support to 



470 


EFFECTS OF AN ALLIANCE, &c. 


Essay 3 . 


the minister of the day. He who receives it by the operation of 
a general law, will lend his support to that political system which 
is likely to perpetuate that law. 

“ The means of strengthening or diffusing influence.” This 
abuse of religious establishments is presupposed in the question 
of alliance. It is by the means of influence that the alliance is 
produced. There may be and there are gradations in the direct¬ 
ness or flagrancy of the exercise of influence, but influence of some 
kind is inseparable from the selection and preference of a parti¬ 
cular church. 

“ A support of regal in opposition to popular forms of govern¬ 
ment.” This attendant upon religious establishments is accidental. 
An establishment will support that form, whatever it be, by which 
it is itself supported. In one country it may be the ally of repub¬ 
licanism, in another of aristocracy, and in another of monarchy; 
but in all it will be the ally of its own patron. The establishment 
of France supported the despotism of the Louises. The establish¬ 
ment of Spain supports at this hour the pitiable policy of Ferdi¬ 
nand. So accurately is alliance maintained, that in a mixed 
government it will be found that an establishment adheres to that 
branch of the government by which its own pre-eminence is most 
supported. In England the strictest alliance is between the church 
and the executive ; and accordingly, in ruptures between the 
executive and legislative powers, the establishment has adhered 
to the former. There was an exception in the reign of James II.: 
but it was an exception which confirms the rule; for the establish¬ 
ment then found or feared that its alliance with the regal power 
was about to be broken. 

Seeing then that the debasement of a Christian church,—that 
the introduction into it of corruptions and abuses, is inseparable 
from religious establishments, what is this debasement and what 
are these abuses and corruptions ? 

Now, without entering into minute inquiry, many evils arise 
obviously from the nature of the case. Here is an introduction, 
into the office of the Christian ministry, of motives, and interests, 
and aims, foreign to the proper business of the office; and not 
only foreign but incongruous and discordant with it. Here are 
secular interests mixed up with the motives of religion. Here 
are temptations to assume the ministerial function in the church 
that is established, for the sake of its secular advantages. Here 


Chap. 14. CLERICAL EQUIVOCATION AND HYPOCRISY. 471 


are inducements, when the function is assumed, to accommodate 
the manner of its exercise to the inclinations of the state; to 
suppress, for example, some religious principles which the civil 
power does not wish to see inculcated; to insist for the same rea¬ 
son with undue emphasis upon others; in a word, to adjust the 
religious conduct so as to strengthen or perpetuate the alliance with 
the state. It is very easy to perceive that these temptations will 
and must frequently prevail; and wherever they do prevail, there 
the excellence and dignity of the Christian ministry are diminished, 
are depressed : there Christianity is not exemplified in its purity : 
there it is shorn of a portion of its beams. The extent of the 
evil will depend of course upon the vigour of the cause; that is 
to say, the evil will be proportionate to the alliance. If a reli¬ 
gious establishment were erected in which the executive power of 
the country appointed all its ministers, there would, I doubt not, 
ensue an almost universal corruption of the ministry. As an 
establishment recedes in its constitution from this closeness of 
alliance, a corresponding increase of purity may be expected. 

During the reformation and in Queen Elizabeth’s time, “ of 
nine thousand four hundred beneficed clergy,” (adherents to Pa¬ 
pacy) “ only one hundred and seventy-seven resigned their pre¬ 
ferment rather than acknowledge the queen’s supremacy,” 1 yet 
the pope to them was head of the church. One particular 
manner in which the establishment of a church injures the charac¬ 
ter of the church itself is, by the temptation which it holds out to 
equivocation * or hypocrisy. It is necessary to the preference of 
the teachers of a particular sect, that there should be some means 
of discovering who belong to that sect:—there must be some test. 
Before the man who is desirous of undertaking the ministerial 
office, there are placed two roads, one of which conducts to those 
privileges which a state religion enjoys, and the other does not. 
The latter may be entered by all who will: the former by those 
only who affirm their belief of the rectitude of some church forms 
or of some points of theology. It requires no argument to prove 
that this is to tempt men to affirm that which they do not believe : 
that it is to say to the man who does not believe the stipulated 
points, Here is money for you if you will violate your conscience. 
By some the invitation will be accepted; 2 and what is the result] 

1 Southey: Book of the Church, Sir Thomas More. 

2 “ Chillingworth declared in a letter to Dr. Sheldon, that if he subscribed he sub¬ 
scribed his own damnation, and yet in no long space of time, he actually did subscribe 
to the articles of the church, again and again.” Simpson’s Plea. 


472 


PALEY —AN ESTABLISHED CHURCH Essay 3. 


Why that, just as they are going publicly to insist upon the 
purity and sanctity of the Moral Law, they violate that law them¬ 
selves. The injury which is thus done to a Christian church by 
establishing it, is negative as well as positive. You not only 
tempt some men to equivocation or hypocrisy, but exclude from 
the office others of sounder integrity. Two persons, both of whom 
do not assent to the prescribed points, are desirous of entering the 
church. One is upright and conscientious, the other subservient 
and unscrupulous. An establishment excludes the good man 
and admits the bad. “ Though some purposes of order and 
tranquillity may be answered by the establishment of creeds and 
confessions, yet they are at all times attended with serious incon¬ 
veniences : they check inquiry; they violate liberty ; they ensnare 
the consciences of the clergy, by holding out temptations to pre¬ 
varication.” 1 

And with respect to the habitual accommodation of the exercise 
of the ministry to the desires of the state, it is manifest that an 
enlightened and faithful minister may frequently find himself 
restrained by a species of political leading strings. He has not 
the full command of his intellectual and religious attainments. 
He may not perhaps communicate the whole counsel of God. 2 
It was formerly conceded to the English clergy that they might 
preach against the horrors and impolicy of war, provided they 
were not chaplains to regiments or in the navy. Conceded / 
Then if the state had pleased, it might have withheld the con¬ 
cession; and accordingly from some the state did withhold it. 
They were prohibited to preach against that, against which apostles 
wrote! What would these apostles have said if a state had bidden 
them keep silence respecting the most unchristian custom in the 
world 1 They would have said, Whether we ought to obey God 
rather than man, judge ye. What would they have done ? They 
would have gone away and preached against it as before. One 
question more should be asked,—What would they have said to 
an alliance which thus brought the Christian minister under 
bondage to the state? 

The next point of view in which a religious establishment is 
injurious to the church itself is, that it perpetuates any evils 

1 Paley : Mor. & Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 10. 

2 “ Honest and disinterested boldness in the path of duty is one of the first requi¬ 
sites of a minister of the gospel.” Gisborne. But how shall they be thus disin¬ 
terested ? Mem. in the MSS. 


473 


Chap. 14. PERPETUATES ITS OWN EVILS. 

which happen to exist in it. The reason is this: the preference 
which a state gives to a particular church is given to it as it is. 
If the church makes alterations in its constitution its discipline or 
its forms, it cannot tell whether the state would continue to prefer 
and to patronise it. Besides, if alterations are begun, its members 
do not know wdiether the alacrity of some other church might not 
take advantage of the loosening alliance with the state, to supplant 
it. In short, they do not know what would be the consequences 
of amendments nor where they would end. Conscious that the 
church as it is possesses the supremacy, they think it more pru¬ 
dent to retain that supremacy with existing evils than to endanger 
it by attempting to. reform them. Thus it is that whilst un- 
established churches alter their discipline or constitution as need 
appears to require, established churches remain century after 
century the same. 1 Not to be free to alter, can only then be 
right when the church is at present as perfect as it can be; and 
no one perhaps will gravely say that there is any established 
church on the globe which needs no amendment. Dr. Hartley 
devoted a portion of his celebrated work to a discussion of the 
probability that all the existing church establishments in the 
world would be dissolved; and he founds this probability ex¬ 
pressly upon the ground that they need so much reformation. 

“ In air exclusive establishments, where temporal emoluments 
are annexed to the profession of a certain system of doctrines, and 
the usage of a certain routine of forms, and appropriated to an 
order of men so and so qualified, that order of men will naturally 
think themselves interested that things should continue as they 
are. A reformation might endanger their emoluments.” 2 This 
is the testimony of a dignitary of one of these establishments. 
And the fact being admitted, what is the amount of the evil which 
it involves ? Let another dignitary reply : “ He who, by a dili¬ 
gent and faithful examination of the original records, dismisses 
from the system one article which contradicts the apprehension, 
the experience, or the reasoning of mankind, does more towards 
recommending the belief, and with the belief the influence of 
Christianity, to the understandings and consciences of serious 

1 It was not to religious establishments that Protestants were indebted for the 
first efforts of reformation. They have uniformly resisted reformation. Mem. in 
the MSS. 

2 Archdeacon Blackburn’s Confessional: Pref. 


474 


DISADVANTAGES ATTENDANT UPON Essay 3. 


inquirers, and through them to universal reception and authority, 
than can be effected by a thousand contenders for creeds and 
ordinances of human establishments.” If the benefits of dismiss¬ 
ing such an article are so great, what must be the evil of con¬ 
tinuing it 1 If the benefit of dismissing one such article be so 
great, what must be the evil of an established system which tends 
habitually and constantly to retain many of them 1 Yet these 
“ articles, which thus contradict the reasoning of mankind,” are 
actually retained by established churches. “ Creeds and confes¬ 
sions,” says Dr. Paley, “ however they may express the per¬ 
suasion or be accommodated to the controversies or to the fears 
of the age in which they are composed, in process of time, and by 
reason of the changes which are wont to take place in the judg¬ 
ment of mankind upon religious subjects, they come at length to 
contradict the actual opinions of the church whose doctrines they 
profess to contain.” 1 It is then confessed by the members of an 
established church that religious establishments powerfully obstruct 
the belief, the influence, the universal reception and authority of 
Christianity. Great, indeed, must be the counter advantages of 
these establishments if they counterbalance this portion of its 
evils. 

II. This last paragraph anticipates the second class of disad¬ 
vantages attendant upon religious establishments : their ill effects 
upon religion generally. It is indisputable, that much of the irre- 
ligion of the world has resulted from those things which have been 
mixed up with Christianity and placed before mankind as parts 
of religion. In some countries, the mixture has been so flagrant 
that the majority of the thinking part of the population have 
almost rejected religion altogether. So it was, and so it may be 
feared it still is, in France. The intellectual part of her people 
rejected religion, not because they had examined Christianity and 
were convinced that it was a fiction, but because they had exa¬ 
mined what was proposed to them as Christianity and found it 
was absurd or false. So numerous were “ the articles that con¬ 
tradicted the experience and judgment of mankind,” that they 
concluded the whole was a fable, and rejected the whole. 

Now that which the French church establishment did in an 
extreme degree, others do in a less degree. If the French church 
retained a hundred articles that contradicted the judgment of 
1 Paley: Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. 10. 


RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 


475 


Chap. 14 . 


mankind, and thus made a nation of unbelievers, the church which 
retains ten or five such articles, weakens the general influence of 
religion although it may not destroy it. 

Nor is it merely by unauthorized doctrinal articles or forms 
that the influence of religion is impaired, hut by the general evils 
which affect the church itself. It is sufficiently manifest, that 
whatever tends to diminish the virtue or to impeach the character 
of the ministers of religion, must tend to diminish the influence 
of religion upon mankind. If the teacher is not good, we are not 
to expect goodness in the taught. If a man enters the church with 
impure or unworthy motives, he cannot do his duty when he is 
there. If he makes religion subservient to interest in his own 
practice, he cannot effectually teach others to make religion para¬ 
mount to all. Men associate (they ought to do it less,) the idea 
of religion with that of its teachers; and their respect for one is 
frequently measured by their respect for the other. Now that 
the effect of religious establishments has been to depress their 
teachers in the estimation of mankind, cannot be disputed. The 
effect is, in truth, inevitable. And it is manifest, that whatever 
conveys disrespectful ideas of religion, diminishes its influence 
upon the human mind.—In brief, we have seen that to establish 
a religion is morally pernicious to its ministers; and whatever is 
injurious to them, diminishes the power of religion in the world. 

Christianity is a religion of good-will and kind affections. Its 
essence, so far as the intercourse of society is concerned, is Love. 
Whatever diminishes good-will and kind affections amongst Christ¬ 
ians, attacks the essence of Christianity. Now religious establish¬ 
ments do this. They generate ill-will, heart-burnings, animosities, 
—those very things which our religion deprecates more almost 
than any other. It is obvious that if a fourth or a third of a com¬ 
munity think they are unreasonably excluded from privileges which 
the other parts enjoy, feelings of jealousy or envy are likely to be 
generated. If the minority are obliged to pay to the support of 
a religion they disapprove, these feelings are likely to be exacer¬ 
bated. They soon become reciprocal: attacks are made by one 
party and repelled by another, till there arises an habitual sense 
of unkindness or ill-will. 1 The deduction from the practical influ- 

1 I once met with rather a grotesque definition of religious dissent, but it illus¬ 
trates our proposition:—“ Dissenterism,—that is, “ systematic opposition to the 
established religion.” 



476 


GURNEY—FOX. 


Essay 3 . 


ence of religion upon the minds of men which this effect of reli¬ 
gious establishments occasions, is great.—The evil I trust is 
diminishing in the w r orld; but then the diminution results, not 
from religious establishments, but from that power of Christianity 
which prevails against these evils. 

From these and from other evidences of the injurious effects of 
religious establishments upon the religious condition of mankind, 
we shall perhaps be prepared to assent to the observations which 
follow : “ The history of the last eighteen centuries does, indeed, 
afford, in various ways, a strong presumptive evidence, that the 
cause of true Christianity has very materially suffered in the 
world, in consequence of the connexion between the church and 
the state. It is probably in great measure the consequence of 
such an union that the church has assumed, in almost all Christian 
countries, so secular a character—that Christianity has become 
so lamentably mixed up with the spirit, maxims, motives, and 
politics, of a vain and evil world. Had the union in question 
never been attempted, pure religion might probably have found a 
freer course ; the practical effects of Christianity might have been 
more unmixed, and more extensive; and it might have spread its 
influence in a much more efficient manner than is now the case, 
even over the laws and politics of kings and nations. Before its 
union w r ith the state, our holy religion flourished with comparative 
incorruptness; afterwards it gradually declined in its purity and 
its power until all was nearly lost in darkness, superstition, and 
spiritual tyranny.” 1 “ Religion should remain distinct from the 
political constitution of a state. Intermingled with it what pur¬ 
pose can it serve, except the baneful purpose of communicating 
and of receiving contamination !” 2 

III. Then as to the effect of religious establishments upon the 

“ The placing all the religious sects (in America) upon an equal footing with re¬ 
spect to the government of the country, has effectually secured the peace of the 
community, at the same time that it has essentially promoted the interests of truth 
and virtue.” Mem. Dr. Priestly, p. 175. Mem. in the MSS. 

Pennsylvania.—“ Although there are so many sects and such a difference of reli¬ 
gious opinions in this province, it is surprising the harmony which subsists among 
them, they consider themselves as children of the same father, and live like brethren 
because they have the liberty of thinking like men; to this pleasing harmony in a 
great measure is to be attributed the rapid and flourishing state of Pennsylvania above 
all the other provinces.” Travels through the Interior Parts of North America, by 
an Officer. 1791. Lond. The Officer was Thomas Auburey, who was taken pri¬ 
soner by the Americans. Mem. in the MSS. 

1 J. J. Gurney : Peculiarities, c. 7. 2 Charles James Fox : Fell’s Life. 


Chap. 14 . 


RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 


477 


civil welfare of a state,—we know that the connexion between 
religious and civil welfare is intimate and great. Whatever 
therefore diminishes the influence of religion upon a people, dimin¬ 
ishes their general welfare. In addition however to this general 
consideration, there are some particular modes, of the injurious 
effect of religious establishments, which it may be proper to notice. 

And first, religious establishments are incompatible with com¬ 
plete religious liberty. This consideration we requested the 
reader to bear in mind when the question of religious liberty was 
discussed. 1 “ If an establishment be right, religious liberty is not; 
and if religious liberty be right, an establishment is not.” What¬ 
ever arguments therefore exist to prove the rectitude of complete 
religious liberty, they prove at the same time the wrongness of 
religious establishments. Nor is this all: for it is the manifest 
tendency of these establishments to withhold an increase of reli¬ 
gious liberty, even when on other grounds it would be granted. 
The secular interests of the state religion are set in array against 
an increase of liberty. If the established church allows other 
churches to approach more nearly to an equality with itself, its 
own relative eminence is diminished; and if by any means the 
state religion adds to its own privileges, it is by deducting from 
the privileges of the rest. The state religion is besides afraid to 
dismiss any part even of its confessedly useless privileges, lest 
when an alteration is begun, it should not easily be stopped. 
And there is no reason to doubt that it is temporal rather than 
religious considerations,—interest rather than Christianity,— 
which now occasions restrictions and disabilities and tests. 

In conformity with these views, persecution has generally been 
the work of religious establishments. Indeed some alliance or 
some countenance at least from the state is necessary to a sys¬ 
tematic persecution. Popular outrage may persecute men on 
account of their religion, as it often has done; but fixed stated 
persecutions, have perhaps always been the work of the religion 
of the state. It was the state religion of Rome that persecuted the 
first Christians; not to mention that it was the state religion of 
Judea that put our Saviour himself to death.—“ Who was it that 
crucified the Saviour of the world for attempting to reform the 
religion of his country] The Jewish priesthood.—Who was it 
that drowned the altars of their idols with the blood of Christians 

1 Essay 3, c- 4. 


478 STATE RELIGIONS CAUSE PERSECUTION. Essay 3. 


for attempting to abolish paganism] The Pagan priesthood.—• 
Who was it that persecuted to flames and death those who in the 
time of Wicklifie and his followers laboured to reform the errors 
of Popery ] The Popish priesthood.—Who was it and who is it 
that both in England and in Ireland since the reformation—but I 
check my hand, being unwilling to reflect upon the dead or to 
exasperate the living.” 1 —We also are unwilling to reflect upon or 
to exasperate, but our business is with plain truth. Who then 
was it that since the reformation has persecuted dissentients from 
its creed, and who is it that at this hour thinks and speaks of them 
with unchristian antipathy] The English Priesthood. It was 
and it is the state religion in some European countries that now 
persecutes dissenters from its creed. It was the state religion in 
this country that persecuted the protestants; and since protest- 
antism has been established, it is the state religion which has 
persecuted protestant dissenters. Is this the fault principally of 
the faith of these churches or of their alliance with the state ] No 
man can be in doubt for an answer. 

We are accustomed to attribute too much to bigotry. Bigotry 
has been very great and very operative ; but bigotry alone would 
not have produced the disgraceful and dreadful transactions which 
fill the records of ecclesiastical history. No. Men have often 
been actuated by the love of supremacy or of money, whilst they 
were talking loudly of the sacredness of their faith. They have 
been less afraid for religion than for the dominance of a church. 
When the creed of that church was impugned, those who shared 
in its advantages were zealous to suppress the rising inquiry; 
because the discredit of the creed might endanger the loss of the 
advantages. The zeal of a pope for the real presence, was often 
quite a fiction. He and his cardinals cared perhaps nothing for 
the real presence, as they sometimes cared nothing for morality. 
But men might be immoral without encroaching upon the papal 
power: —they could not deny the doctrine, without endangering 
its overthrow. 

Happily, persecution for religion is greatly diminished: yet 
whilst we rejoice in the fact we cannot conceal from ourselves the 
consideration, that the diminution of persecution has resulted 
rather from the general diffusion of better principles, than from 
the operation of religious establishments as such. 

1 Miscellaneous Tracts, by Richard Watson, D. D., Bishop of Landaff, v. 2. 


Chap. 14. 


STATE RELIGIONS INJURIOUS. 


479 


In most or in all ages, a great portion of the flagitious transac¬ 
tions which furnish materials for the ecclesiastical historian, have 
resulted from the political connexions or interests of a church. 
It was not the interests of Christianity but of an establishment, 
which made Becket embroil his king and other sovereigns in 
distractions. It was not the interests of Christianity but of an 
establishment wdiich occasioned the monstrous impositions and 
usurpations of the papal see. And I do not know whether there 
has ever been a religious war of which religion was the only or 
the principal cause. Besides all this, there has been an inex¬ 
tricable succession of intrigues and cabals,—of conflicting in¬ 
terests,—and clamour and distraction, which the world would 
have been spared if secular interests had not been brought into 
connexion with religion. 

Another mode in which religious establishments are injurious 
to the civil welfare of a people, is by their tendency to resist poli¬ 
tical improvements. That same cause which induces state religions 
to maintain themselves as they are, induces them to maintain the 
patron state as it is. It is the state in its present condition, that 
secures to the church its advantages; and the church does not 
know whether, if it were to encourage political reformation, the 
new state of things might not endanger its own supremacy. 
There are indeed so many other interests and powers concerned in 
political reformations, that the state religion cannot always pre¬ 
vent alterations from being effected. Nor would I affirm that 
they always endeavour to prevent it. And yet we may appeal to 
the general experience of all ages, whether established churches 
have not resisted reformation in those political institutions upon 
which their own privileges depended. Now these are serious 
things. For after all that can be said, and justly said, of the 
mischiefs of political changes and the extravagances of political 
empiricism, it is sufficiently certain that almost every government 
that has been established in the world, has needed from time to 
time important reformations in its constitution or its practice. 
And it is equally certain, that if there be any influence or power 
which habitually and with little discrimination supports political 
institutions as they are, that influence or power must be very 
pernicious to the world. 

We have seen that one of the requisites of a religious establish¬ 
ment is a “ legal provision” for its ministers,-—that is to say, the 


480 


LEGAL PROVISION 


Essay 3 . 


members of all the churches which exist in a state must be obliged 
to pay to the support of one whether they approve of that one or 
not. 

Now in endeavouring to estimate the effects of this system, 
with a view to ascertain the preponderance of public advantages, 
we are presented at the outset with the inquiry,—Is this compul¬ 
sory maintenance right ? Is it compatible with Christianity 1 If 
it is not, there is an end of the controversy; for it is nothing to 
Christians whether a system be politic or impolitic, if once they 
have discovered that it is wrong. But I wave for the present the 
question of rectitude. The reader is at liberty to assume that 
Christianity allows governments to make this compulsory provision 
if they think fit. I wave too the question whether a Christian 
minister ought to receive payment for his labours, whether that 
payment be voluntary or not. 

The single point before us is then, the balance of advantages. 
Is it more advantageous that ministers should be paid by a legal 
provision or by voluntary subscription ? 

That advantage of a legal provision which consists in the sup¬ 
ply of a teacher to every district has already been noticed ; so that 
our inquiry is reduced to a narrow limit. Supposing that a 
minister would be appointed in every district although the state 
did not pay him, is it more desirable that he should be paid by the 
state or voluntarily by the people 1 

Of the legal provision some of the advantages are these: it 
holds out no inducement to the irreligious or indifferent to absent 
themselves from public worship lest they should be expected to 
pay the preacher. Public worship is conducted,—the preacher 
delivers his discourse,—whether such persons go or not. They 
pay no more for going, and no less for staying away: and it is 
probable, in the present religious state of mankind, that some go 
to places for worship since it costs them nothing, who otherwise 
would stay away. But it is manifestly better that men should 
attend even in such a state of indifference than that they should 
not attend at all. Upon the voluntary system of payment, this 
good effect is not so fully secured; for though the doors of chapels 
be open to all, yet few persons of competent means would attend 
them constantly without feeling that they might be expected to 
contribute to the expenses. I do not believe that the non-attend¬ 
ance of indifferent persons would be greatly increased by the 


Chap. 14 . 


FOR CHRISTIAN TEACHERS. 


481 


adoption of the voluntary system, especially if the payments were 
as moderate as they easily might he;—but it is a question rather 
of speculation than of experience, and the reader is to give upon 
this account to the system of legal provision, such an amount 
of advantage as he shall think fit. 

Again.—Preaching, where there is a legal provision, is not “ a 
mode of begging.” If you adopt voluntary payment, that pay¬ 
ment depends upon the good pleasure of the hearers, and there is 
manifestly a temptation upon the preacher to accommodate his 
discourses, or the manner of them, to the wishes of his hearers 
rather than to the dictates of his own judgment. But the man 
who receives his stipend whether his hearers be pleased or not, is 
under no such temptation. He is at liberty to conform the 
exercise of his functions to his judgment without the diminution 
of a subscription. This I think is an undeniable advantage. 

Another consideration is this:—That where there is a reli¬ 
gious establishment with a legal provision, it is usual, not to say 
indispensable, to fill the pulpits only with persons who entertain a 
certain set of religious opinions. It would be obviously idle to 
assume that these opinions are true, but they are, or are in a con¬ 
siderable degree, uniform. Assuming then that one set of opinions 
is as sound as another, is it better that a district should always 
hear one set, or that the teachers of twenty different sets should 
successively gain possession of the pulpit, as the choice of the 
people might direct ? I presume not to determine such a ques¬ 
tion ; but it may be observed that in point of fact those churches 
which do proceed upon the voluntary system, are not often sub¬ 
jected to such fluctuations of doctrine. There does not appear 
much difficulty in constituting churches upon the voluntary plan, 
which shall in practice secure considerable uniformity in the sen¬ 
timents of the teachers. And as to the bitter animosities and 
distractions which have been predicted if a choice of new teachers 
was to be left to the people,—they do not I believe ordinarily 
follow. Not that I apprehend the ministers, for instance, of an 
independent church are always elected with that unanimity and 
freedom from heart-burnings which ought to subsist, but that 
animosities do not subsist to any great extent. Besides, the 
prediction appears to be founded on the supposition, that a certain 
stipend was to be appropriated to one teacher or to another 
according as he might obtain the greater number of votes,— 

2 i 


482 


ADVANTAGES ATTENDANT UPON THE Essay 3. 


whereas every man is at liberty, if he pleases, to withdraw his 
contribution from him whom he disapproves and to give it to 
another. And after all, there may be voluntary support of minis¬ 
ters without an election by those who contribute, as is instanced 
by the Methodists in the present day. 

On the other hand there are some advantages attendant on the 
voluntary system which that of a legal provision does not possess. 

And first it appears to be of importance that there should he an 
union, an harmony, a cordiality between the minister and the 
people. It is in truth an indispensable requisite. Christianity 
which is a religion of love, cannot flourish where unkindly feelings 
prevail. Now I think it is manifest that harmony and cordiality 
are likely to prevail more where the minister is chosen and 
voluntarily remunerated by his hearers, than where they are not 
consulted in the choice; where they are obliged to take him 
whom others please to appoint, and where they are compelled to 
pa}' him whether they like him or not. The tendency of this last 
system is evidently opposed to perfect kindliness and cordiality. 
There is likely to be a sort of natural connexion, a communication 
of good offices induced between hearers and the man whom they 
themselves choose and voluntarily remunerate, which is less likely 
in the other case. If love he of so much consequence generally to 
the Christian character, it is especially of consequence that it 
should subsist between him who assumes to he a dispenser and 
them who are in the relation of hearers of the gospel of Christ. 

Indeed the very circumstance that a man is compelled to pay a 
preacher, tends to the introduction of unkind and unfriendly feel¬ 
ings. It is not to he expected that men will pay him more 
graciously or with a better will than they pay a tax-gatherer; and 
we all know that the tax-gatherer is one of the last persons whom 
men wish to see. He who desires to extend the influence of 
Christianity would be very cautious of establishing a system of 
which so ungracious a regulation formed a part. There is truth 
worthy of grave attention in the ludicrous verse of Cowper’s,— 

-A rarer man than you 

In pulpit none shall hear; 

But yet, methinks, to tell you true, 

You sell it plaguy dear. 

It is easy to perceive that the influence of that man’s exhortations 
must he diminished, whose hearers listen with the reflection that 


Chap. 14. VOLUNTARY PAYMENT OF TEACHERS. 


483 


his advice is “ plaguy dear.” The reflection too is perfectly 
natural, and cannot he helped. And when superadded to this is 
the consideration, that it is not only sold “ dear,” but that pay¬ 
ment is enforced ,—material injury must be sustained by the cause 
of religion. In this view it may be remarked, that the support of 
an establishment by a general tax would be preferable to the 
payment of each pastor by his own hearers. Nor is it unworthy 
of notice that some persons will always think (whether with 
reason or without it) that compulsory maintenance is not right; 
and in whatever degree they do this, there is an increased cause 
of dissatisfaction or estrangement. 

Again.—The teacher who is independent of the congregation,— 
who will enjoy all his emoluments whether they are satisfied with 
him or not,—is under manifest temptation to remissness in his 
duty,—not perhaps to remissness in those particulars on which his 
superiors would animadvert, but in those which respect the unsti¬ 
pulated and undefinable but very important duties of private care 
and of private labours. To mention this is sufficient. No man 
who reflects upon the human constitution, or who looks around 
him, will need arguments to prove, that they are likely to labour 
negligently whose profits are not increased by assiduity and zeal. 

I know that the power of religion can, and that it often does 
counteract this; but that is no argument for putting temptation in 
the way. So powerful indeed is this temptation, that with a very 
great number it is acknowledged to prevail. Even if we do not 
assert, with a clergyman, that a great proportion of his brethren 
labour only so much for the religious benefit of their parishioners 
as will screen them from the arm of the law, there is other evi¬ 
dence which is unhappily conclusive. The desperate extent to 
which non-residence is practised, is infallible proof that a large 
proportion of the clergy are remiss in the discharge of the duties 
of a Christian pastor. They do not discharge them con amore. 
And how should they] It was not the wish to do this which 
prompted them to become clergymen at first. They were in¬ 
fluenced by another object, and that they have obtained;—they 
possess an income : and it is not to be expected that when this is 
obtained the mental desires should suddenly become elevated and 
purified, and that they who entered the church for the sake of its 
emoluments, should commonly labour in it for the sake of religion. 

Although to many the motive for entering the church is the 


484 ADVANCEMENT NOT DEPENDENT ON DESERT. Essay 3. 


same as that for engaging in other professions, it is an unhappi¬ 
ness peculiar to the clerical profession that it does not offer the 
same stimulus to subsequent exertion,—that advancement does not 
usually depend upon desert. The man who seeks for an income 
from surgery or the bar is continually prompted to pay exemplary 
attention to its duties. Unless the surgeon is skilful and atten¬ 
tive, he knows that practice is not to be expected: unless the 
pleader devotes himself to statutes and reports, he knows that he 
is not to expect cases and briefs. But the clergyman, whether he 
studies the Bible or not, whether he be diligent and zealous or not, 
still possesses his living. Nor would it be rational to expect, that 
where the ordinary stimulus to human exertion is wanting, the 
exertion itself should generally be found. So naturally does exer¬ 
tion follow from stimulus, that we believe it is an observation 
frequently made, that curates are more exemplary than beneficed 
clergymen. And if beneficed clergymen were more solicitous 
than they are to make the diligence of their curates the principal 
consideration in employing them, this difference between curates 
and their employers would be much greater than it is. Let bene¬ 
ficed clergymen employ and reward curates upon as simple prin¬ 
ciples as those are on which a merchant employs and rewards 
a clerk, and it is probable that nine-tenths of the parishes in 
England would wish for a curate rather than a rector. 

But this very consideration affords a powerful argument against 
the present system. If much good would result from making 
clerical reward the price of desert, much evil results from making 
it independent of desert. This effect of the English Establish¬ 
ment is not like some others, inseparable from the institution. It 
would doubtless be possible even with compulsory maintenance so 
to appropriate it that it should form a constant motive to assiduity 
and exertion. Clergymen might be elevated in their profession 
according to their fidelity to their office; and if this were done,— 
if, as opportunity offered, all were likely to be promoted who 
deserved it; and if all who did not deserve it were sure to be 
passed by, a new face would soon be put upon the affairs of the 
church. The complaints of neglect of duty would quickly be 
diminished, and non-residence would soon cease to be the reproach 
of three thousand out of ten. We cannot however amuse our¬ 
selves with the hope that this will be done;—because in reference 
to the civil constitution of the church, there is too near an approach 


485 


Chap. 14 . DESERT A REQUISITE. 

to that condition in which the whole head is sick and the whole 
heart faint. 

If then it be asserted that it is one great advantage of the 
establishment that it provides a teacher for every parish, it is one 
great disadvantage that it makes a large proportion of those 
teachers negligent of their duty. 

There may perhaps be a religious establishment in which the 
ministers shall be selected for their deserts, though I know not 
whether in any it is actually and sufficiently done. That it is one 
of the first requisites in the appointment of religious teachers is 
plain; and this point is manifestly better consulted by a system in 
which the people voluntarily pay and choose their pastors, than 
when they do not. Men love goodness in others, though they 
may be bad themselves; and they especially like it in their reli¬ 
gious teachers: so that when they come to select a person to fill 
that office, they are likely to select one of whom they think at 
least that he is a good man. 

The same observation holds of non-residence. Non-residence 
is not necessary to a state religion. By the system of voluntary 
payment it is impossible. 

It has sometimes been said (with whatever truth) that in times 
of public discontent dissenters have been disposed to disaffection. 
If this be true, compulsory support is in this respect a political 
evil, inasmuch as it is the cause of the alienation of a part of the 
community. We will not suppose so strong a case as that this 
alienation might lead to physical opposition; but, supposing the 
dissatisfaction only to exist affords no inconsiderable topic of the 
statesman’s inquiry. Happiness is the object of civil govern¬ 
ment, and this object is frustrated in part in respect of those who 
think themselves aggrieved by its policy. And when it is con¬ 
sidered how numerous the dissenters are, and that they increase in 
number, the political impropriety and impolicy of keeping them in 
a state of dissatisfaction becomes increased. 

The best security of a government is in the satisfaction and 
affection of the people; which satisfaction is always diminished 
and which affection is always endangered, in respect of those 
who, disapproving a certain church, are compelled to pay to its 
support. This is a consequence of a (< legal provision” that 
demands much attention from the legislator. Every legislator 
knows that it is an evil. It is a point that no man disputes, and 


486 RECAPITULATION. Essay 3 . 

that every man knows should be prevented, unless its cause 
effects a counterbalance of advantages. 

Lastly.—Upon the question of the comparative advantages of 
a legal provision and a voluntary remuneration in securing the 
due discharge of the ministerial function, what is the evidence of 
facts 1 Are the ministers of established or of unestablished 
churches the more zealous, the more exemplary, the more labo¬ 
rious, the more devoted! Whether of the two are the more 
beloved by their hearers. Whether of the two lead the more 
exemplary and religious lives? Whether of the two are the more 
active in works of philanthropy ? It is a question of fact, and 
facts are before the world. 


The discussions of the present chapter conduct the mind of the 
writer to these short conclusions :— 

That of the two grounds upon which the propriety of Religious 
Establishments is capable of examination, neither affords evidence 
in their favour: That Religious Establishments derive no coun¬ 
tenance from the nature of Christianity or from the example of 
the primitive churches: and, That they are not recommended by 
practical Utility. 



CHAPTER XV. 


THE RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENT OF ENGLAND AND IRELAND. 

THE ENGLISH ESTABLISHMENT IS OF PAPAL ORIGIN. 

If the conclusions of the last chapter be just, it will now become 
our business to inquire how far the disadvantages which are 
incidental to religious establishments actually operate in our own, 
and whether there subsist any additional disadvantages resulting 
from the peculiar constitution or circumstances of the English 
church. 

We have no concern with religious opinions or forms of church 
government, but with the church as connected with the state. It is 
not with an episcopalian church but with an established church 
that we are concerned. If there must exist a religious establish¬ 
ment, let it by all means remain in its present hands. The 
experience which England has had of the elevation of another 
sect to the supremacy, is not such as to make us wish to see 
another elevated again. 1 Nor would any sect which takes a just 
view of its own religious interests desire the supremacy for itself. 

The origin of the English establishment is papal. The political 
alliance of the church is similar now to what it was in the first 
years of Henry VIII. When Henry countenanced the preachers 

1 The religious sect who are now commonly called Puritans “ prohibited the use 
of the Common Prayer, not merely in churches, chapels, and places of public wor¬ 
ship, hut in any private place or family as well, under a penalty of five pounds for 
the first offence, ten pounds for the second, and for the third a year’s imprisonment.”* 
These men did not understand or did not practise the fundamental duties of toleration. 
For religious liberty they had still less regard. “ They passed an ordinance by which 
eight heresies were made punishable with death upon the first offence, unless the 
offender abjured his errors, and irremissibly if he relapsed. Sixteen other opinions 
were to be punished with imprisonment till the offender should find sureties that he 
would maintain them no more.”f And they quite abolished the Episcopal rank and 
order. As if each church might not decide for itself by what form its discipline should 
be conducted! To have separated the civil privileges from the episcopal order was 
within the province of the legislature,—and to have abolished those privileges would 
we think have been wise. 

* Southey’s Book of the Church. f Id. 




488 


ALLIANCE OF THE 


Essay 3 . 


of the reformed opinions, when he presented some of them with 
the benefices which had hitherto been possessed by the Romish 
clergy, and when at length these benefices and the other privileges 
of the state religion were bestowed upon the “reformed” only,— 
no essential change was effected in the political constitution of 
the church. In one point indeed the alliance with the state was 
made more strict, because the supremacy was transferred from the 
pope to the monarch. So that the same or a kindred political 
character was put in connexion with other men and new opinions. 
The church was altered but the establishment remained nearly the 
same: or the difference that did obtain made the establishment 
more of a state religion than before. The origin therefore of the 
English establishment is papal. It was planted by papal policy, 
and nurtured by pervading superstition : and as to the transfer of 
the supremacy, but little credit is due to its origin or its motives. 
No reverence is due to our establishment on account of its parent¬ 
age. The church is the offspring of the reformation,—the church 
establishment is not. It is not a daughter of protestantism but of 
the papacy,—brought into unnatural alliance with a better faith. 
Unhappily, but little anxiety was shown by some of the reformers 
to purify the political character of the church when its privileges 
came into their own hands. They declaimed against the corrup¬ 
tions of the former church, but were more than sufficiently willing 
to retain its profits and its power. 


The alliance with the state of which we have spoken, as the 
inseparable attendant of religious establishments, is in this country 
peculiarly close. “ Church and State” is a phrase that is con¬ 
tinually employed, and indicates the intimacy of the connexion 
between them. The question then arises, whether those disad¬ 
vantages which result generally from the alliance, result in this 
country, and whether the peculiar intimacy is attended with 
peculiar evils. 

Bishops are virtually appointed by the prince; and it is mani¬ 
fest that in the present principles of political affairs, regard will 
be had, in their selection, to the interests of the state. The 
question will not always be, when a bishoprick becomes vacant, 
Who is the fittest man to take the oversight of the church ? but 



CHURCH WITH THE STATE. 


489 


Chap. 15. 


sometimes,—What appointment will most effectually strengthen 
the administration of the day 1—Bishops are temporal peers, and 
as such they have an efficient ability to promote the views of the 
government by their votes in parliament. Bishops in their turn 
are patrons ; and it becomes also manifest that these appointments 
will sometimes be regulated by kindred views. He who was 
selected by the cabinet because he would promote their measures, 
and who cannot hope for advancement if he opposes those mea¬ 
sures, is not likely to select clergymen who oppose them. Many 
ecclesiastical appointments, again, are in the hands of the indi¬ 
vidual officers of government,-—of the prime minister for example, 
or the lord chancellor. That these officers will frequently regard 
political purposes, or purposes foreign to the worth of men in mak¬ 
ing these appointments, is plain. Now when we reflect that the 
highest dignities of the church are in the patronage of the king, and 
that the influence of their dignitaries upon the inferior clergy is 
necessarily great, it becomes obvious, that there will be diffused 
through the general whole of the hierarchy a systematic alliance 
with the ruling power. Nor is it assuming any thing unreasonable 
to add, that whilst the ordinary principles that actuate mankind 
operate, the hierarchy will sometimes postpone the interests of 
religion to their own. 

Upon the practical authority of cabinets over the church Bishop 
Warburton makes himself somewhat mirthful:—“ The rabbins 
make the giant Gog or Magog contemporary with Noah, and 
convinced by his preaching. So that he was disposed to take 
the benefit of the ark. But here lay the distress—it by no means 
suited his dimensions. Therefore, as he could not enter in, he 
contented himself to ride upon it astride. Image now to yourself 
this illustrious cavalier mounted on his hackney, and see if he does 
not bring before you the church, bestrid by some lumpish minister 
of state, who turns and winds it at his pleasure. The only dif¬ 
ference is, that Gog believed the preacher of righteousness and 
religion.” 1 

If then, to convert a religious establishment into “ a means of 
strengthening or diffusing influence, serves only to debase it, and 
to introduce into it numerous corruptions and abuses,” these 
debasements, corruptions, and abuses must necessarily subsist in 
the establishment of England. 

1 Bishop Warburton’s Letters to Bishop Hurd, Letter 47. 




490 


SIMP SONLOWTH. 


Essay 3 . 


And first as to the church itself.—It is not too much to believe 
that the honourable earnestness of many of the reformers to purify 
religion from the corruptions of the papacy, was cooled, and even¬ 
tually almost destroyed by the acquisition of temporal immunities. 
When they had acquired them the unhappy reasoning began 
to operate ,—Let us let well alone: if we encourage further 
changes our advantages will perhaps pass into other hands. We 
are safe as we are ; and we will not endanger the loss of present 
benefits by further reformation .—What has been the result]— 
That the church has never been fully reformed to the present 
hour. If any reader is disposed to deny this, I place the propo¬ 
sition not upon my feeble authority but upon that of the members 
of the church and of the reformers themselves. The reader will 
be pleased to notice that there are few quotations in the present 
chapter except from members of the church of England. 

“ If any person will seriously consider the low and superstitious 
state of the minds of men in general in the time of James I. much 
more in the reigns of his predecessors, he will not be surprised to 
find that there are various matters in our ecclesiastical constitution 
which require some alteration. Our forefathers did great things, 
and we cannot be sufficiently thankful for their labours, but much 
more remains to be done.” 1 Hartley says of the ecclesiastical 
powers of the Christian world — 1 “ They have all left the true, pure, 
simple religion, and teach for doctrines the commandments of men. 
They are all merchants of the earth, and have set up a kingdom 
of this world, abounding in riches, temporal power, and external 
pomp.” 2 Dr. Henry More (he was zealous for the honour of the 
church) says of the reformed churches, they have “ separated 
from the great Babylon to build those that are lesser and more 
tolerable, but yet not to be tolerated for ever.” 3 

“ It pleased God in his unsearchable wisdom to suffer the 
progress of this great work, the reformation, to be stopped in the 
midway , and the effects of it to be greatly weakened by many 
unhappy divisions among the reformed.” 4 

“ The innovations introduced into our religious establishment 

1 Simpson’s Plea, p. 137. 2 Essay on man, 1749, v. 2, p. 370. 

3 Myst. of Iniquity: p. 553. This poor man found that his language laboured under 

the imputation of being unclerical, ungarded, and impolitic; and he afterwards 
showed solicitude to retract it. See p. 476, &c. of same work. 

4 Dr. Louth, afterwards Bishop of London: Visitation Sermon. 1758. 


Chap. 15 . 


WATSON.—BURNET. 


491 


at the reformation, were great and glorious for those times : but 
some further innovations are yet wanting (would to God they may 
be quietly made!) to bring it to perfection.’’ 1 

“ I have always had a true zeal for the church of England,— 
yet I must say— there are many things in it that have been very 
uneasy to me.” 2 

“ Cranmer, Bucer, Jewel, and others never considered the 
reformation which took place in their own times as complete.” 3 

Long after Cranmer’s days, some of the brightest ornaments of 
the church still thought a reformation was needed. Tillotson, 
Patrick, Tennison, Kidder, Stillingfleet, Burnet, and others, 4 en¬ 
deavoured a further reformation, though in vain. 

“ We have been contented to suffer our religious constitution, 
our doctrines, and ceremonies, and forms of public worship, to 
remain nearly in the same unpurged, adulterated, and superstitious 
state in which the original reformers left them.” 5 

I attribute this want of reformation primarily to the political 
alliance of the church. Why should those who have the power 
to effect it refuse, unless it was that they feared some ill result 1 
And what ill result could arise from religious reformation if it were 
not the endangering of temporal advantages 1 

“ I would only ask,” said Lord Bacon two hundred years ago, 
“ why the civil state should be purged and restored by good and 
wholesome laws, made every third or fourth year in parliament 
assembled, devising remedies as fast as time breedeth mischief; 
and contrariwise, the ecclesiastical state should still continue upon 
the dregs of time, and receive no alteration now for these five and 
forty years and more.—If St. John were to indite an epistle to the 
church of England, as he did to them of Asia, it would sure have 
the clause habeo adversus te pauca .” 6 What would Lord Bacon 
have said if he had lived to our day, when two hundred years 
more have passed, and the establishment still continues “ upon the 
dregs of time!”—But Lord Bacon’s question should be answered ; 
and though no reason can be given for refusing to reform, a cause 
can be assigned. 

“ Whatever truth there may be in the proposition which asserts 
that the multitude is fond of innovation, I think that the propo- 

1 Dr. Watson, Bishop of Landaff: Misc. Tracts, v. 2, p. 17, &c. 

2 Bishop Burnet : Hist. Own Times, v. 2, p. €34. 3 Simpson’s Plea. 

4 Simpson’s Plea. 5 Id. 6 Works : Edit. 1803, v. 2, p. 527. 


492 


“ THE PRIESTHOOD IS AVERSE FROM Essay 3. 


sition which asserts that the 'priesthood is averse from reformation , 
is far more generally true.” 1 This is the cause. They who 
have the power of reforming, are afraid to touch the fabric. They 
are afraid to remove one stone however decayed, lest another and 
another should be loosened, until the fabric, as a political in¬ 
stitution, should fall. Let us hear again episcopal evidence. 
Bishop Porteus informs us that himself with some other clergy¬ 
men, (amongst whom were Dr. Percy and Dr. York, both 
subsequently bishops,) attempted to induce the bishops to alter 
some things “which all reasonable persons agreed stood in need of 
amendment.” The answer given by archbishop Cornwallis was 
exactly to the purpose—“ I have consulted, severally, my brethren 
the bishops; and it is the opinion of the bench in general that 
nothing can in prudence be done in the matter.” 2 Here is 
no attempt to deny the existence of the evils,—no attempt to 
show that they ought not to be amended, but only that it would 
not “be prudent” to amend them. What were these considera¬ 
tions of prudence 1 Did they respect religion! Is it imprudent 
to purify religious offices ] Or did they respect the temporal pri¬ 
vileges of the church 1—No man surely can doubt, that if the 
church had been a religious institution only, its heads would have 
thought it both prudent and right to amend it. 

The matters to which Bishop Porteus called the attention of the 
bench were “ the liturgy, but especially the articles.” These 
Articles afford an extraordinary illustration of that tendency to 
resist improvement of which we speak. 

“ The requiring subscription to the thirty-nine articles is a 
great imposition.” 3 “ Do the articles of the church of England 
want a revisall—Undoubtedly.” 4 —In 1772 a clerical petition 
w r as presented to the house of commons for relief upon the subject 
of subscription: and what were the sentiments of the house 
respecting the articles. One member said, “ I am persuaded they 
are not warranted by Scripture, and I am sure they cannot be 
reconciled to common sense.” 5 Another,—“ They are contradic¬ 
tory, absurd, several of them damnable, not only in a religious 
and speculative light, but also in a moral and practical view.” 6 

1 Bishop Watson: Misc. Tracts, v. 2. 2 W'orks of Bishop Porteus: vol. 1. 

3 Bishop Burnet: Hist. Own Times, v. 2, p. 634. 

4 Bishop Watson: Misc. Tracts, v. 2, p. 17. 

5 Lord George Germain. 6 Sir William Meredith. 


Chap. 15. REFORMATION.”—PARLIAMENTARY HISTORY. 493 


Another ,—“ The articles, I am sure, want a revisal; because 
several of them are heterodox and absurd, warranted neither by 
reason nor by Scripture. Many of them seem calculated for 
keeping out of the church all but those who will subscribe any 
thing, and sacrifice every consideration to the mammon of un¬ 
righteousness.” 1 And a fourth said,-—“ Some of them are in my 
opinion unfounded in, some of them inconsistent with, reason and 
Scripture; and some of them subversive of the very genius and 
design of the gospel.” 2 The articles found, it appears, in the 
house of commons one, and one only defender; and that one was 
Sir Roger Newdigate, the member for Oxford. 3 —And thus a 
“ Church of Christ” retains in its bosom that w r hich is confessedly 
irrational, inconsistent with Scripture, contradictory, absurd, sub¬ 
versive of the very genius and design of the gospel:—for what? 
Because the church is allied to the state :—because it is a Reli¬ 
gious Establishment. 

There is such an interest, an importance, an awfulness in these 
things, resulting both from their effects and the responsibility 
which they entail, that I would accumulate upon the general ne¬ 
cessity for reformation some additional testimonies. 

In 1746 was presented to the convocation, “ Free and Candid 
Disquisitions by Dutiful Sons of the Church,” in which they say, 
“ Our duty seems as clear as our obligations to it are cogent; and 
is, in one word, to reform .” Of this book Archdeacon Blackburn 
tells us that it was treated with much “ contempt and scorn by 
those who ought to have paid the greatest regard to the subject of 
it;” and that “ it caused the forms of the church to be weighed in 
the balance of the sanctuary, where they have been found greatly 
wanting .” 4 

“ Our confirmations, and I may add even our ordinations for the 
sacred ministry, are dwindled into painful and disgusting ceremo¬ 
nies, as they are usually administered.” 5 

Another archdeacon, who w r as not only a friend of the church 
but a public advocate of religious establishments, says, “ Reflection, 


1 Lord John Cavendish. 2 Sir George Saville. 

3 Par. Hist. v. 17. The petition, after all this, was rejected by two hundred and 
seventeen votes against seventy-one. Can any thing more clearly indicate th e fear of 
reforming 1—a fear that extends itself to the state, because the state thinks (with 
reason or without it) that to endanger the stability of the church were to endanger its 

own. 

4 The Confessional. 


5 Simpson’s Plea. 



494 


PALEY.—LORD BEXLEY. 


Essay 3 . 


we hope, in some, and time we are sure in ail, will reconcile men 
to alterations established in reason. If there be any danger it is 
from some of the clergy , who would rather suffer the vineyard to 
be overgrown with weeds than stir the ground ; or what is worse, 
call these weeds the fairest flowers in the garden.” This is 
strong language : that which succeeds is stronger still. “ If we 
are to wait for improvement till the cool, the calm, the discreet 
part of mankind begin it; till church governors solicit, or ministers 
of state propose it, I will venture to pronounce that (without His 
interposition with whom nothing is impossible) we may remain as 
we are till the renovation of all things.” 1 Why “ church gover¬ 
nors” and “ ministers of state” should be so peculiarly backward 
to improve, is easily known. Ministers of state are more anxious 
for the consolidation of their power than for the amendment of 
churches; and church governors are more anxious to benefit 
themselves by consolidating that power, than to reform the system 
of which they are the heads. But let no man anticipate that we 
shall indeed remain as we are till the renovation of all things. 
The work will be done though these may refuse to do it. “ If,” 
says a statesman, “ the friends of the church, instead of taking the 
lead in a mild reform of abuses, contend obstinately for their 
protection, and treat every man as an enemy who aims at reform, 
they will certainly be overpowered at last , and the correction 
applied by those who will apply it with no sparing hand .” 2 If 
these declarations be true (and who will even question their 
truth]) we maybe allowed, without any pretensions to extraor¬ 
dinary sagacity to add another : that to these unsparing correctors 
the work will assuredly be assigned. How infatuated then the 
policy of refusing reformation even if policy only were concerned. 


The next point in which the effect of the state alliance is inju¬ 
rious to the church itself, is by its effects upon the ministry. 

It is manifest that where there are such powerful motives of 
interest to assume the ministerial office, and where there are such 

* A Defence of the Considerations on the propriety of requiring a subscription to 
Articles of Faith. By Dr. Paley: p. 35. 

2 Letters on the subject of the British and Foreign Bible Society, by the present 
Lord Bexley. 



Chap. 15 . 


SOUTHEY.—KNOX.—PALEY. 


495 


facilities for the admission of unfit men,—unfit men will often be 
admitted. Human nature is very stationary; and kindred results 
arose very many centuries ago. “ The attainments of the clergy 
in the first ages of the Anglo-Saxon church were very consider¬ 
able. But a great and total degeneracy took place during the 
latter years of the Heptarchy, and for two generations after the 
union of its kingdoms.” And why] Because “ mere worldly 
views operated upon a great proportion of them; no other way of 
life offered so fair a prospect of power to the ambitious, of security 
to the prudent, of tranquillity and ease to the easy minded.” 1 —• 
Such views still operate, and they still produce kindred effects. 

It is manifest, that if men undertake the office of Christian 
teachers not from earnestness in the cause but from the desire of 
profit or power or ease, the office will frequently be ill discharged. 
Persons who possess little of the Christian minister but the name, 
will undertake to guide the flock; and hence it is inevitable that the 
ministry, as a body, will become reduced in the scale of religious 
excellence. So habitual is the system of undertaking the office 
for the sake of its emoluments, that men have begun to avow the 
motive and to defend it. “ It is no reproach to the church to say 
that it is supplied with ministers by the emoluments it affords.” 2 
Would it not have been a reproach to the first Christian churches, 
or could it have been said of them at all ] Does he who enters 
the church for the sake of its advantages, enter it “ of a ready 
mind]”—'But the more lucrative offices of the church are talked 
of with much familiarity as “ prizes,” much in the same manner 
as we talk of prizes in a lottery. “ The same fund produces 
more effect—when distributed into prizes of different value than 
when divided into equal shares.” 3 This “ effect” is described as 
being “ both an allurement to men of talents to enter into the 
church, and as a stimulus to the industry of those who are already 
in it.” But every man knows that talent and industry are not 
the only nor the chief things which obtain for a person the 
prizes of the church. There is more of accuracy in the parallel 
passage of another moralist. “ The medical profession does not 
possess so many splendid prizes as the church and the bar, and 
on that account, perhaps, is rarely if ever pursued by young men 
of noble families.” 4 Here is the point: it is rather to noble 

1 Southey: Book of the Church, c. 6. 2 Knox’s Essays, No. 18. 

3 Mor. and Pol. Phil. h. 6, c. 10. 4 Gisborne’s Duties of Men. 



496 


WARBURTON.—NOBLE ECCLESIASTICS. Essay 3. 

families than to talent and industry, that the prizes are awarded. 

“ There are indeed rich preferments, hut these, it is observed, do 
not usually fall to merit as the reward of it, but are lavished 
where interest and family connexion put in their irresistible 
claim.” 1 That plain speaking man Bishop Warburton writes to 
his friend Hurd, “ Reckon upon it, that Durham goes to some 
noble ecclesiastic. ’Tis a morsel only for them.” 2 It is manifest 
that when this language can be appropriate, the office of the 
ministry must be dishonoured and abused. Respecting the priest¬ 
hood it is acknowledged that “ the characters of men are formed 
much more by the temptations than the duties of their profes¬ 
sion.” 3 Since then the temptations are worldly, what is to be 
expected but that the character should be worldly tool—Nor 
would any thing be gained by the dexterous distinction that I have 
somewhere met with, that although the motive for “ taking the 
oversight of the flock” be indeed “ lucre,” yet it does not come 
under the apostolical definition of “ filthy.” 

Of the eventual consequences of thus introducing unqualified 
and perhaps irreligious nobles into the government of the church. 
Bishop Warburton speaks in strong language. “ Our grandees 
have at last found their way back into the church. I only wonder 
they have been so long about it. But be assured, that nothing but 
a new religious revolution, to sweep away the fragments that 
Harry the VIII. left, after banqueting his courties, will drive 
them out again.” 4 When that revolution shall come which will 
sweep away these prizes, it will prove not only to these but 
to other things to be a besom of destruction. 

If the fountain be bitter, the current cannot be sweet. The 
principles which too commonly operate upon the dignitaries of the 
church, descend in some degree to the inferior ranks. I say 
in some degree; for I do not believe that the degree is the same 
or so great. Nor is it to be expected. The temptation which 
forms the character, is diminished in its power, and the character 
therefore may rise. 

I believe that (reverently be it spoken) through the goodness of 
God, there has been produced since the age of Hartley, a consi¬ 
derable improvement in the general character (at least of the 
inferior orders) of the English clergy. In observing the character 


1 Knox’s Essays, No. 53. 

3 Mor. and Pol. Phil. p. 266. 


2 Warhurton’s Letters to Hurd, No. 47. 
4 Warburton’s Letters to Hurd, No. 47. 


Chap. 15. PRIVATE PATRONAGE—AD VOWSONS. 


497 


which he exhibited, let it be remembered that that character was 
the legitimate offspring of the state religion. The subsequent 
amendment is the offspring of another and a very different and a 
purer parentage. “ The superior clergy are in general ambitious 
and eager in the pursuit of riches; flatterers of the great, 
and subservient to party interest ; negligent of their own im¬ 
mediate charges, and also of the inferior clergy. and their 
immediate charges. The inferior clergy imitate their superiors, 
and in general take little more care of their parishes than barely 
what is necessary to avoid the censures of the law.—I say this is 
the general case ; that is, far the greater part of the clergy of all 
ranks in this kingdom are of this kind.” 1 —These miserable 
effects upon the character of the clergy are the effects of a 
Religious Establishment. If any man is unwilling to admit the 
truth, let him adduce the instance of an unestablished church, 
in the past eighteen hundred years, in which such a state of 
things has existed. Of the times of Gregory Nazianzen, Bishop 
Burnet says,—“The best men of that age, instead of pressing 
into orders or aspiring to them, fled from them, excused themselves, 
and judging themselves unworthy of so holy a character and 
so high a trust, were not without difficulty prevailed upon to 
submit to that which, in degenerate ages, men run to as a 
subsistence or the means of procuring it.” 2 

It might almost be imagined that the right oi private patronage 
was allowed for the express purpose of deteriorating the character 
of the ministers of religion,—because it can hardly be supposed 
that any church would allow such a system without a perfect con¬ 
sciousness of its effects. To allow any man or woman, good or 
bad, who has money to spend, to purchase the power of assigning 
a Christian minister to a Christian flock, is one of those desperate 
follies and enormities which should never be spoken of but in the 
language of detestation and horror. 3 A man buys an advowson as 
he buys an estate, and for the same motives. He cares perhaps 

1 Hartley: Observations on Man. 

2 Disc, of the Pastoral Care, 12th. ed. p. 77. “ Under Lanfranc’s primacy no pro¬ 
motion in the church was to be obtained by purchase, neither was any unfit person 
raised to the episcopal rank.” * 

3 Upon such persons “rests the awful responsibility (I might almost call it the 
divine prerogative) of assigning a flock to the shepherd, and of selecting a shepherd 
for the flock.” Gurney’s Peculiarities, 3rd. ed. p. 164. 

* Southey : Book of the Church, chap. 7. 

2 K 




498 


NON-RESIDENCE.—PLURALITIES. Essay 3 . 


nothing for the religious consequences of his purchase, or for the 
religious assiduity of the person to whom he presents it. Nay, the 
case is worse than that of buying as you buy an estate; for land 
will not repay the occupier unless he cultivates it,—but the living 
is just as profitable whether he exerts himself zealously or not. 
He who is unfit for the estate by want of industry or of talent, is 
nevertheless fit for the living! These are dreadful and detestable 
abuses. Christianity is not to be brought into juxta position with 
such things. It were almost a shame to allow a comparison. 
“ Who is not aware that in consequence of the prevalence of 
such a system, the holy things of God are often miserably pro¬ 
faned V * 1 —“It is our firm persuasion, that the present system of 
bestowing church patronage, is hastening the decay of morals, the 
progress of insubordination, and the downfal of the establishment 
itself.” Morality and subordination have happily other sup¬ 
ports :—the fate of the establishment is sealed. I say sealed. It 
cannot perpetually stand without thorough reformation; and it 
cannot be reformed while it remains an establishment. 

Another mode in which the state religion of England is injurious 
to the character of its ministers, is by its allowance and practical 
encouragement of non-residence and pluralities. These are the 
natural effects of the principles of the system. It is very possible 
that there should be a state religion without them, but if the 
alliance with the state is close,—if a principal motive in the 
dispensation of benefices is the promotion of political purposes,— 
if the prizes of the church are given where interest and family 
connexions put in their claim,—it becomes extremely natural that 
several preferments should be bestowed upon one person. And 
when once this is countenanced or done by the state itself, inferior 
patrons will as naturally follow the example. The prelate who 
receives from the state three or four preferments, naturally gives 
to his son or his nephew three or four if he can. 

Pluralities and non-residence, whatever may be said in their 
favour by politicians or divines, will always shock the common 
sense and the virtue of mankind. Unhappily, they are evils 
which seem to have increased. “Theodore, the seventh arch¬ 
bishop of Canterbury, restricted the bishops and secular clergy to 
their own diocesesand no longer ago than the reign of James I., 
“when pluralities were allowed, which was to be as seldom as 
1 Christian Observer, v. 20, p. 11. 


Chap. 15. BURNET.—PARLIAMENTARY RETURNS. 499 


possible, the livings were to be near each other.” 1 But now we 
hear of one dignitary who possesses ten different preferments, and 
of another who, with an annual ecclesiastical revenue of fifteen 
thousand pounds, did not see his diocese for many years together. 2 
And as to that proximity of livings which was directed in 
James’s time, they are now held in plurality not only at a 
distance from each other, but so as that the duties cannot be 
performed by one person. 3 

Of the moral character of this deplorable custom, it is not 
necessary that we should speak. “ I do not enter,” says an emi¬ 
nent prelate, “into the scandalous practices of non-residence and 
pluralities. This is so shameful a profanation of holy things that 
it ought to be treated with detestation and horror.” 4 Another 
friend of the church says, “ He who grasps at the revenue of 
a benefice, and studies to evade the personal discharge of the 
various functions which that revenue is intended to reward, and 
the performance of those momentous duties to God and man, 
which, by accepting the living, he has undertaken, evinces either 
a most reprehensible neglect of proper consideration, or a callous 
depravity of heart.” 5 It may be believed that all are not thus 
depraved who accept pluralities without residence. Custom, 
although it does not alter the nature of actions, affects the cha¬ 
racter of the agent; and although I hold no man innocent in the 
sight of God who supports, in his example, this vicious practice, 
yet some may do it now with a less measure of guilt than that 
which would have attached to him who first, for the sake of 
money, introduced the scandal into the church. 

The public has now the means of knowing, by the returns 
to parliament, the extent in which these scandalous customs exist 
—an extent which, when it was first communicated to the Earl of 
Harrowby, “ struck me,” says he, “ with surprise, I could almost 
say with horror.” Alas, when temporal peers are horror-struck 
by the scandals that are tolerated and practised by their spiritual 
teachers! 

By one of these returns it appears that the whole number 

1 Southey: Book of the Church, c. 6. 

2 For these examples see Simpson’s Plea. I say nothing of present examples. 

3 Here it may be observed how imperfect is the argument (see Paley) that a reli¬ 
gious establishment does good by keeping an enlightened man in each parish. Mem. 
in the MSS. 

4 Burnet: Hist. Own Times, v. 2, p. 646. 


5 Gisborne: Duties of Men. 



500 


DISCIPLINE OF THE CHURCH. 


Essay 3 . 


of places 1 is ten thousand two hundred and sixty-one. Of the 
possessors of these livings, more than one half icere non-resident. 
The number of residents was only four thousand four hundred and 
twenty-one.—But the reader will perhaps say, What matters the 
residence of him who receives the money, so that a curate resides] 
Unfortunately, the proportion of absentee curates is still greater 
than that of incumbents. Out of three thousand six hundred and 
ninety-four who are employed, only one thousand five hundred and 
eighty-seven live in the parishes they serve ; so that two thousand 
one hundred and seven parishes are left without even the re¬ 
sidence of a curate. Besides this, there are nine hundred and 
seventy incumbents who neither live in their parishes themselves 
nor employ any curate at all! What is the result 1 That above 
one half of those who receive the stipends of the church, live 
away from their flocks; and that there are in this country three 
thousand and seventy-seven flocks amongst whom no shepherd is 
to be found!—When it is considered that all this is a gratuitous 
addition to the necessary evils of state religions, that there may 
be established churches without it, it speaks aloud of those 
mischiefs of our establishment which are peculiarly its own. 

One other consideration upon this subject remains. An internal 
discipline in a church, both over its ministers and its members, 
appears essential to the proper exercise of Christian duty. From 
what cause does it happen that there is little exercise of discipline, 
or none, in the church of England] The reader will perhaps 
answer the question to himself: “ The exercise of efficient 
discipline in the church is impossible and he would answer 
truly. It is impossible. Who shall exercise it 1 The first Lord 
of the Treasury] He will not, and he cannot. The Bench 
of Bishops ] Alas! there is the origin of a great portion of 
the delinquency. If they were to establish a discipline, the first 
persons upon whom they must exercise it would be themselves. 
Who ever heard of persons, so situated, instituting or re-esta¬ 
blishing a discipline in the church ] Who then shall exercise 
it ] The subordinate clergy ] If they have the will, they have 
not the power; and if they had the power, who can hope 
that they would use it] Who can hope that whilst above 

1 The diocese of St. David’s is not included, and the return includes some dig¬ 
nities, sinecures, and dilapidated churches. It cites that of 1810. I do not know 
but that the details are substantially the same at the present time. 


Chap. 15. CLERGY FEAR TO PREACH THE TRUTH. 501 


half of these clergy are non-residents they will erect a discipline 
by which residence shall be enforced 1 —I say, discipline, efficient 
discipline is impossible ; and I submit it to the reader whether any 
Establishment in which Christian Discipline is impossible, is 
not essentially bad. 


From the contemplation of these effects of the English esta¬ 
blishment upon its formularies, its ministers and its discipline, we 
must turn to its effects generally upon the religious welfare of the 
people. This welfare is so involved with the general character of 
the establishment and its ministers, that to exhibit an evil in one 
is to illustrate an injury to the other. If the operation of the state 
religion prevents ministers from inculcating some portions of 
divine truth, its operation must indeed be bad. And how stands 
the fact 1 “ Aspiring clergymen, wishing to avoid every doctrine 

which would retard their advancement, were very little inclined to 
preach the reality or necessity of divine influence.” 1 The evil 
which this indicates is twofold: first, the vicious state of the 
heads of the church; for why else should “advancement” be 
refused to those who preached the doctrine of the gospel; and 
next, the injury to religion; for religion must needs be injured if 
a portion of its truths are concealed. Another quotation gives 
a similar account: “Regular divines of great virtue, learning, and 
apparent piety, feared to preach the Holy Ghost and his opera¬ 
tions, the main doctrines of the gospel, lest they should counte¬ 
nance the puritan, the quaker, or the methodist, and lose the 
esteem of their own order or of the higher powers.” 2 Did Paul 
or Barnabus ever “fear to preach the main doctrines of the 
gospel” from considerations like these or from any considerations 
whatever 1 Did our Lord approve or tolerate such fear when 
he threatened with punishment any man who should take away 
from the words of his book 1 But why again should the clerical 
order or the higher powers disesteem the man who preached 
the main doctrines of the gospel, unless it were from motives 
of interest founded in the establishment! 

And thus it is, that they who are assumed to be the reli¬ 
gious leaders of the people, who ought, so far as is in their power, 

1 Vicessimus Knox: Christian Philosophy, 3rd. edition, p. 24. 2 Id. p. 23. 




502 


MORAL PREACHING.—LAVINGTON. Essay 3 . 


to guide the people into all truth, conceal a portion of that truth 
from motives of interest! If this concealment is practised by 
men of great virtue, learning, and apparent piety, what are 
we to expect in the indifferent or the bad! We are to expect 
that not one but many doctrines of the gospel will be concealed. 
We are to expect that discourses not very different from those 
which Socrates might have delivered will be dispensed, instead of 
the whole counsel of God. What has been the fact 1 Of “ moral 
preaching,” Bishop Lavington says, “We have long been at¬ 
tempting the reformation of the nation by discourses of this kind. 
With what success ? None at all. On the contrary we have 
dexterously preached the people into downright infidelity .” Will 
any man affirm that this has not been the consequence of the 
state religion ? Will any man, knowing this, affirm that a state 
religion is right or useful to Christianity? 

But as to the tendency of the system to diffuse infidelity, we 
are not possessed of the testimony of Bishop Lavington alone. 
“ It is evident that the worldly mindedness and neglect of duty in 
the clergy, is a great scandal to religion, and cause of infidelity.” 1 
Again: “ Who is to blame for the spread of infidelity ? The 
bishops and clergy of the land more than any other people in 
it. We, as a body of men, are almost solely and exclusively 
culpable.” 2 Ostervald in his “Treatise concerning the Causes of 
the present corruption of Christians,” makes the same remark of 
the clergy of other churches ;—“ The cause of the corruption 
of Christians is chiefly to be found in the clergy.” Now supposing 
this to be the language of exaggeration,—supposing that they 
corrupt Christians only as much as men who make no peculiar pre¬ 
tensions to religion,—how can such a fact be accounted for, but 
by the conclusion that there is something corrupting in the clerical 
system 1 

The refusal to amend the constitution or formularies of the 
church is another powerful cause of injury to religion. Of one 
particular article, the Athanasian creed, a friend of the church, 
and one who mixed with the world, says, “ I really believe that 
creed has made more deists than all the writings of all the 
oppugners of Christianity since it was first unfortunately adopted 
in our liturgy.” 3 Would this deist-making document have been 

1 Hartley: Observations on Man. 2 Simpson’s Plea, 3rd. edit. p. 76. 

3 Observations on the Liturgy, by an Under Secretary of State. 


Chap. 15. BISHOP WATSON.—WJLBERFORCE. 


503 


retained till now if the church were not allied to the state ?— 
Bishop Watson uses language so unsparing, that, just and true a 
it is, I know not whether I would cite it from any other pen than 
a bishop’s ,—“ A motley monster of bigotry and superstition, a 
scarecrow of shreds and patches, dressed up of old by philosophers 
and popes, to amuse the speculative and to affright the igno¬ 
rant:”—do I quote this because it is the unsparing language of 
truth? No, but because of that which succeeds it,—“ now,” says 
the bishop, “ a butt of scorn, against which every unfledged 
witling of the age essays his wanton efforts, and, before he has 
learned his catechism, is fixed an infidel for life / This I am 
persuaded is too frequently the case, for I have had too frequent 
opportunities to observe it .” 1 If by the church as it subsists, 
many are fixed infidels for life, how diffusively must be spread 
that minor but yet practical disrespect for religion, which, though 
it amounts not to infidelity, makes religion an unoperative thing,— 
unoperative upon the conduct and the heart,—unoperative in 
animating the love and hope of the Christian,—unoperative in 
supporting under affliction, and in smoothing and brightening the 
pathway to the grave! 

To these minor consequences also we have unambiguous testi¬ 
mony.'—“ Where there is not this open and shameless disavowal 
of religion, few traces of it are to be found. Improving in every 
other branch of knowledge, we have become less and less ac¬ 
quainted with Christianity.” 2 —“ Two-thirds of the lower order of 
people in London,” says Sir Thomas Bernard, “ live as utterly 
ignorant of the doctrines and duties of Christianity, and are as 
errant and unconverted pagans, as if they had existed in the 
wildest part of Africa.”—“ The case,” continues the Quarterly 
Review, “ is the same in Manchester, Leeds, Bristol, Sheffield, 
and in all our large towns; the greatest part of the manufacturing 
populace, of the miners, and colliers are in the same condition; 
and if they are not universally so, it is more owing to the zeal of 
the methodists than to any other cause .” 3 How is it accounted for 
that in a country in which a teacher is appointed to diffuse Christi¬ 
anity in every parish, a considerable part of the population are 
confessed to be absolute pagans ? How, especially is it accounted 

1 Misc. Tracts by Watson, Bishop of LandafF, v. 2, p. 49. 

2 Wilberforce: Practical View, 6th. edit. p. 389. 

3 Quarterly Review, April 1816, p. 233. 




504 WARBURTON.—GISBORNE. Essay 3. 

for that the few who are reclaimed from paganism, are reclaimed 
not by the established, but by an unestablished church ? It is not 
difficult to account for all this, if the condition of the established 
church is such as to make what follows the flippant language of a 
clergyman who afterwards was a bishop: “ The person I en¬ 
gaged in the summer,” as a curate, “ is run away; as you will 
think natural enough when I tell you he was let out of jail to be 
promoted to this service .” 1 

The ill effect of non-residence upon the general interests of 
religion is necessarily great. A conscientious clergyman finds that 
the offices of his pulpit are not the half of his business: he finds 
that he can often do more in promoting the religious welfare of 
his parishioners, out of his pulpit than in it. It is out of his 
pulpit that he evinces and exercises the most unequivocal affection 
for his charge; that he encourages or warns as individuals have 
need ; that he animates by the presence of his constant example ; 
that he consoles them in their troubles; that he adjusts their dis¬ 
agreements ; that he assists them by his advice. It is by living 
amongst them, and by that alone, that he can be “ instant in 
season and out of season,” or that he can fulfil the duties which 
his station involves. How prodigious then must be the sum of 
mischief which the non-residence of three thousand clergymen 
inflicts upon religion! How yet more prodigious must be the sum 
of mischief which results from that negligence of duty of which 
non-residence is but one effect! Yet all this is occasioned by our 
religious establishment. “ The total absence of non-residence and 
pluralities in the church of Scotland, and the annual examination 
of all the inhabitants of the parish by its minister, are circum¬ 
stances highly advantageous to religion.” 2 

The minister in the English church is under peculiar disad¬ 
vantages in enforcing the truths or the duties of religion upon 
irreligious or sceptical men. Many of the topics which such men 
urge are directed not against Christianity but against that exhi¬ 
bition of Christianity which is afforded by the church. It has 
been seen that this is the cause of infidelity. How then shall the 
established clergyman efficiently defend our religion? He may 
indeed confine himself to the vindication of Christianity without 
reference to a church: but then he does not defend that exhibi- 

1 Letters between Bishop Warburton and Bishop Hurd. 

2 Gisborne: Duties of Men. 


Chap. 15. RECOIL FROM WORKS OF PHILANTHROPY. 505 

tion of Christianity which his own church affords. The sceptic 
presses him with those things which it is confessed are wrong. 
He must either defend them or give them up as indefensible. If 
he defends them he confirms the sceptic in his unbelief: if he 
gives them up, he declares not only that the church is in the 
wrong, but that himself is in the wrong too: and in either case, 
his fitness for an advocate of our religion is impaired. 

Hitherto, I have enforced the observations of this chapter 
by the authority of others. Now I have to appeal for con¬ 
firmation to the experience of the reader himself. That peculiar 
mode of injury to the cause of virtue of which I speak, has 
received its most extensive illustrations during the present cen¬ 
tury ; and it has hitherto perhaps been the subject rather of 
private remark than of public disquisition. I refer to a sort 
of instinctive recoil from new measures that are designed to 
promote the intellectual, the moral, or the religious improvement 
of the public. I appeal to the experience of those philanthropic 
men who spend their time either in their own neighbourhoods, or 
in “going about, doing good,” whether they do not meet with a 
greater degree of this recoil from works of philanthropy, amongst 
the teachers and members of the state religion than amongst 
other men,—and whether this recoil is not the strongest amongst 
that portion who are reputed to be the most zealous friends of the 
church. Has not this been your experience with respect to 
the Slave Trade and to Slavery,-r—with respect to the education 
of the people,—with respect to scientific or literary institutions 
for the labouring ranks,—with respect to sending preachers to 
pagan countries, —=- with respect to the Bible Society 1 Is it 
not familiar to you to be in doubt and apprehension respecting 
the assistance of these members of the establishment, when you 
have no fear and no doubt of the assistance of other Christians 1 
Do you not call upon others and invite their co-operation with 
confidence 1 Do you not call upon these with distrust, and is not 
that distrust the result of your previous experience! 

Take, for example, that very simple institution the Bible 
Society, — simple, because its only object is to distribute the 
authorized records of the dispensations of God. It is an in¬ 
stitution upon which it may be almost said that but one opinion is 
entertained,—that of its great utility; but one desire is felt,—that 
of co-operation, except by the members of established churches. 


506 UNION OF THE CHURCH WITH THE STATE. Essay 3. 


From this institution the most zealous advocates of the English 
church stand aloof. Whilst Christians of other names are friendly 
almost to a man, the proportion is very large of those churchmen 
who show no friendliness. It were to no purpose to say that they 
have claims peculiarly upon themselves, for so have other Christ¬ 
ians,—claims which generally are complied with to a greater 
extent. Besides, it is obvious that these claims are not the 
grounds of the conduct that we deplore. If they were, we 
should still possess the cordial approbation of these persons,— 
their personal, if not their pecuniary support. From such per¬ 
sons silence and absence are positive discouragement. How then 
are we to account for the phenomenon! By the operation of 
a state religion. For when our philanthropist applies to the 
members of another church, their only question perhaps is, Will 
the projected institution be useful to mankind 1 But when he 
applies to such a member of the state religion, he considers,— 
How will it effect the establishment! Will it increase .the 
influence of dissenters! May it not endanger the immunities 
of the church! Is it countenanced by our superiors! Is it 
agreeable to the administration! And when all these consider¬ 
ations have been pursued, he very commonly finds something that 
persuades him that it is most “ prudent” not to encourage the 
proposition. It should be remarked too, as an additional indi¬ 
cation of the cause of this recoil from works of goodness, that 
where the genius of the state religion is most influential, there is 
commonly the greatest backwardness in works of mental and 
religious philanthropy. The places of peculiar frigidity are the 
places in which there are the greatest number of the dignitaries 
of the church. 

Thus it is that the melioration of mankind is continually and 
greatly impeded, by the workings of an institution of which the 
express design is to extend the influence of religion and morality. 
Greatly impeded: for England is one of the principal sources 
of the current of human improvement, and in England the in¬ 
fluence of this institution is great. These are fruits which are 
not borne by good and healthy trees. How can the tree be good 
of which these are the fruits! Are these fruits the result of 
episcopacy! No, but of episcopacy wedded to the state. Were 
this union dissolved, (and the parties are not of that number 
whom God hath joined,) not only would human reformation 


Chap. 15. 


THE TITHE SYSTEM. 


507 


go forward with an accelerated pace, but episcopalianism itself 
would in some degree arise and shake herself as from the dust of 
the earth. She would find that her political alliance has bound 
around her glittering but yet enslaving chains,—chains which 
hugged and cherished as they are, have ever fixed her, and 
ever will fix her, to the earth, and make her earthly. 

The mode in which the legal provision for the ministry is made 
in this country, contains, like many other parts of the institution, 
evils superadded to those which are necessarily incidental to 
a state religion. If there be any one thing -which, more than 
another, ought to prevail between a Christian minister and those 
whom he teaches, it is harmony and kindliness of feeling : and 
this kindliness and harmony is peculiarly diminished by the sys¬ 
tem of Tithes. There is no circumstance which so often “ disturbs 
the harmony that should ever subsist between a clergyman and 
his parishioners as contentions respecting tithes.” 1 Yicessimus 
Knox goes further : “ One great cause of the clergy’s losing their 
influence is, that the laity in this age of scepticism grudge them 
their tithes. The decay of religion and the contempt of the 
clergy arise in a great measure from this source.” 2 What 
advantages can compensate for the contempt of Christian ministers 
and the decay of religion ? Or who does not perceive that a legal 
provision might be made which would be productive, so far as the 
new system of itself was concerned, of fewer evils'?—Of the 
political ill consequences of the tithe system I say nothing here. 
If they were much less than they are, or if they did not exist at 
all, there is sufficient evidence against the system in its moral 
effects. 

It is well known, and the fact is very creditable, that the clergy 
exact tithes with much less rigour and consequently occasion far 
fewer heartburnings than lay claimants. The want of cordiality 
often results too from the cupidity of the payers, who invent 
vexatious excuses to avoid payment of the whole claim, and are 
on the alert to take disreputable advantages. 

But to the conclusions of the Christian moralist it matters little 
by what agency a bad system operates. The principal point 
of his attention is the system itself. If it be bad, it will be sure 
to find agents by whom its pernicious principles will be elicited 
and brought into practical operation. It is therefore no extenua- 

1 Gisborne: Duties of Men. 2 Essays, No. 10. 


508 


REVIEW OF PROPOSITIONS. 


Essay 3 . 


tion of the system, that the clergy frequently do not disagree 
with their parishioners: whilst it is a part of the system that 
Tithes are sold, and sold to him, of whatever character, who will 
give most for them—he will endeavour to make the most of them 
again. So that the evils which result from the Tithe system, 
although they are not chargeable upon religious establishments, 
are chargeable upon our own, and are an evidence against it. 
The animosities which Tithe farmers occasion are attributable 
to the Tithe system. Ordinary men do not make nice discrimi¬ 
nations. He who is angry with the Tithe farmer is angry with 
the rector who puts the power of vexation into his hands, and 
he who is out of temper with the teacher of religion loses some of 
his complacency in religion itself. You cannot then prevent the 
loss of harmony between the shepherd and his flock, the loss 
of his influence over their affections, the contempt of the clergy, 
and the decay of religion, from Tithes. You must amend the 
civil institution or you cannot prevent the religious mischief. 


Reviewing then the propositions and arguments which have 
been delivered in the present chapter—propositions which rest 
upon the authority of the parties concerned, what is the general 
conclusion] If Religious Establishments are constitutionally 
injurious to Christianity, is not our establishment productive 
of superadded and accumulated injury]—Let not the writer 
of these pages be charged with enmity to religion because he 
thus speaks. Ah! they are the best friends of the church who 
endeavour its amendment. I may be one of those who, in the 
language of Lord Bexley, shall be regarded as an enemy be¬ 
cause, in the exhibition of its evils, I have used great plainness of 
speech. But I cannot help it. I have other motives than those 
which are affected by these censures of men; and shall be con¬ 
tent to bear my portion, if I can promote that purification of a 
Christian church, of which none but the prejudiced or the interested 
deny the need.—They who endeavour to conceal the need may be 
the advocates, but they are not the friends of the church. The 
wound of the daughter of my people may not be slightly healed. 
It is vain to cry Peace, Peace, when there is no peace. What 
then will the reader who has noticed the testimonies which have 
been offered in this chapter think of the propriety of such state- 



HANNAH MORE.—BLACKBURN. 


509 


Chap. 15 . 


ments as these ] The establishment is the firmest support and 
noblest ornament of Christianity.” 1 It “ presents the best secu¬ 
rity under heaven for the preservation of the true apostolical 
faith in this country.” 2 “ Manifold as are the blessings for which 
Englishmen are beholden to the institutions of their country, 
there is no part of those institutions from which they derive more 
important advantages than from its church establishment.” 3 — 
Especially what will the reader think of the language of Hannah 
More]—Hannah More says of the established church, “ Here 
Christianity presents herself neither dishonoured, degraded, nor 
disfigured;” Bishop Watson says of its creed, that it is “ a mot¬ 
ley monster of bigotry and superstition.” Hannah More says, 
“ Here Christianity is set before us in all her original purity;” 
Archdeacon Blackburn says that “ the forms of the church having 
been weighed in the balance of the sanctuary are found greatly 
wanting.” Hannah More says, “ She has been completely rescued 
from that encumbering load under which she had so long groaned, 
and delivered from her heavy bondage by the labours of our 
blessed reformers;” 4 Dr. Lowth says that the reformation from 
popery “ stopped in the midway.” Hannah More says, We 
here see Christianity “ in her whole consistent character, in all 
her fair and just proportions, as she came from the hands of her 
divine author;” Dr. Watson calls her creed “ a scarecrow, dressed 
up of old by philosophers and popes.” To say that the language 
of this good woman is imprudent and improper, is to say very 
little. Yet I would say no more. Her own language is her 
severest censurer. When will it be sufficiently remembered that 
the evils of a system can neither be veiled nor defended by 
praise 1 When will it be remembered that if we “ contend for 
abuses,” the hour will arrive when “ correction will be applied 
with no sparing hand!” 


It has frequently been said that “ the church is in danger]” 
What is meant by the church ] Or what is it that is endangered ] 

1 Dr. Howley, Bishop of London: Charge, 1S14, p. 25. 

* On the Nature of Schism, by C. Dauheny, Archdeacon of Sarum, p. 153. 

3 First words of Southey’s Book of the Church. 

4 Moral Sketches, 3rd. edit. p. 90. 




510 


“ THE CHURCH IS IN DANGER. 


Essay 3 . 


Is it meant that the episcopal form of church government is 
endangered—that some religious revolution is likely to take place, 
by which a Christian community shall be precluded from adopting 
that internal constitution which it thinks best ?—This surely 
cannot be feared. The day is gone by, in England at least, when 
the abolition of prelacy could become a measure of state. One 
community has its conference, and another its annual assembly, 
and another its independency, without any molestation. Who 
then would molest the English church because it prefers the 
government of bishops and deacons to any other ? Is it meant 
that the doctrines of the church are endangered, or that its liturgy 
will be prohibited ? Surely no. Whilst every other church is 
allowed to preach what doctrines it pleases, and to use what formu¬ 
laries it pleases, the liberty will not surely be denied to the epis¬ 
copal church. If the doctrines and government of that church be 
Christian and true, there is no reason to fear for their stability. Its 
members have superabundant ability to defend the truth. What 
then is it that is endangered 1 Of what are those who complain 
of danger afraid? Is it meant that its civil immunities are 
endangered—that its revenues are endangered ? Is it meant that 
its members will hereafter have to support their ministers without 
assistance from other churches? Is it feared that there will 
cease to be such things as rich deaneries and bishopricks ? Is it 
feared that the members of other churches will become eligible to 
the legislature, and that the heads of this church will not be 
temporal peers ? In brief, is it feared that this church will become 
merely one amongst the many, with no privileges but such as 
are common to good citizens and good Christians ?—These surely 
are the things of which they are afraid. It is not for religious 
truth, but for civil immunities : it is not for forms of church 
government, but for political pre-eminence : it is not for the church 
but for the church establishment. Let a man then, when he joins 
in the exclamation, The church is in danger, present to his mind 
distinct ideas of his meaning and of the object of his fears. If his 
alarm and his sorrow are occasioned not for religion but for 
politics—not for the purity and usefulness of the church but for its 
immunities—not for the offices of its ministers but for their 
splendours—let him be at peace. There is nothing in all this for 
which the Christian needs to be in sorrow or in fear. 


511 


Chap. 15. THE ESTABLISHMENT IS IN DANGER. 

And why 7 Because all that constitutes a church, as a Christian 
community, may remain when these things are swept away. 
There may be prelates without nobility; there may be deans and 
and archdeacons without benefices and patronage; there may be 
pastors without a legal provision; there may be a liturgy without 
a test. 

In the sense in which it is manifest that the phrase, “ the 
church is in danger,” is ordinarily to be understood, that is—“ the 
establishment is in danger”—the fears are undoubtedly well 
founded : the danger is real and imminent. It may not be imme¬ 
diate perhaps; perhaps it may not be near at hand; but it is real, 
imminent, inevitable. The establishment is indeed in danger; 
and I believe that no advocacy however zealous, that no support 
however determined, that no power however great, will preserve 
it from destruction. If the declarations which have been cited in 
this chapter be true—if the reasonings which have been offered in 
this and in the last be just, who is the man that, as a Christian, 
regrets its danger or would delay its fall 7 He may wish to delay 
it as a politician; he may regret it as an expectant of temporal 
advantages, but as a Christian he will rejoice. 

Supposing the doctrines and government of the church to be 
sound, it is probable that its stability would be increased by what 
is called its destruction. It would then only be detached from that 
alliance with the state which encumbers it, and weighs it down, 
and despoils its beauty, and obscures its brightness. Contention 
for this alliance will eventually be found to illustrate the proposi¬ 
tion, that a man’s greatest enemies are those of his own household. 
He is the practical enemy of the church who endeavours the 
continuance of its connexion with the state : except indeed that 
the more zealous the endeavour the more quickly, it is probable, 
the connexion will be dissolved; and therefore though such per¬ 
sons “ mean not so, neither do their hearts think so,” yet they 
may thus be the agents in the hand of God of hastening the day 
in which she shall be purified from every evil thing ; in which she 
shall arise and shine, because her light is come, and because the 
glory of the Lord is risen upon her. 

Let him, then, who can discriminate between the church and 
its alliances, consider these things. Let him purify and exalt 
his attachment. If his love to the church be the love of a 


512 


ONE MONITORY SUGGESTION. 


Essay 3 . 


Christian, let him avert his eye from every tiling that is political; 
let his hopes and fears be excited only by religion; and let his 
exertions be directed to that which alone ought to concern a 
Christian church, its purity and its usefulness. 


In concluding a discussion in which it has been needful to 
utter, with plainness, unwelcome truths, and to adduce testimonies 
which some readers may wish to be concealed, I am solicitous to 
add the conviction, with respect to the ministers of the English 
church, that there is happily a diminished ground of complaint 
and reprehension—the conviction that whilst the liturgy is una¬ 
mended and unrevised, the number of ministers is increased to 
whom temporal things are secondary motives, and who endeavour 
to be faithful ministers of one common Lord: the conviction too, 
with respect to other members of the church, that they are collec¬ 
tively advancing in the Christian path, and that there is an 
“ evident extension of religion within her borders.” Many of 
these, both of the teachers and of the taught, are persons with 
whom the writer of these pages makes no pretensions of Christian 
equality—yet even to these he would offer one monitory sug¬ 
gestion—They are critically situated with reference to the political 
alliance of the church. Let them beware that they mingle not, 
with their good works and faith unfeigned, any confederacy with 
that alliance which will assuredly be laid in the dust. That con¬ 
federacy has ever had one invariable effect—to diminish the 
Christian brightness of those who are its partisans. It will have 
the same effect upon them. If they are desirous of superadding 
to their Christianity, the privileges and emoluments of a state 
religion—if they endeavour to retain in the church the interest of 
both worlds—if, together with their desire to serve God with a 
pure heart, they still cling to the advantages which this unholy 
alliance brings,—and, contending for the faith contend also for the 
establishment—the effect will be bad as the endeavour will be 
vain; bad, for it will obstruct their own progress and the progress 
of others in the Christian path; and vain, for the fate of that 
establishment is sealed. 

In making these joyful acknowledgements of the increase of 
Christianity within the borders of the church,'one truth however 



Chap . 15 . 


CONCLUSION. 


513 


must be added; and it is a solemn truth—The increase is not 
attributable to the state religion, but has taken place notwith¬ 
standing it is a state religion. I appeal to the experience of good 
men : has the amendment been the effect of the establishment as 
such 1 Has the political connexion of the church occasioned the 
amendment or promoted it] Nay—Has the amendment been 
encouraged by those on whom the political connexion had the 
greatest influence ? No : the reader, if he be an observer of reli¬ 
gious affairs, knows that the state alliance is so far from having 
effected a reformation, that it does not even regard the instruments 
of that reformation with complacency. 



CHAPTER XVI. 


OF LEGAL PROVISION FOR CHRISTIAN TEACHERS. 

OF VOLUNTARY PAYMENT AND OF UNPAID MINISTRY. 

If some of the observations of the present chapter are not 
accurately classed with political subjects, I have to offer the 
apology that the intimacy of their connexion with the preceding 
discussions appears to afford a better reason for placing them here 
than an adherence to system affords for placing them elsewhere, 
“ The substance of method is often sacrificed to the exterior show 
of it .” 1 


LEGAL PROVISION. 

By one of those instances which happily are not unfrequent in 
the progress of human opinion from error to truth, the notion of a 
divine right on the part of any Christian teachers to a stated 
portion of the products of other men’s labours, is now nearly given 
up . 2 There was a time when the advocate of the claim would 

1 Bishop Warburton. 

2 Yet let it not be forgotten that it is upon this exploded notion of the Divine 
right, that the legal right is founded. The law did not give Tithes to the Clergy 
because the provision was expedient, but because it was their Divine right. It is 
upon this assumption that the law is founded. See Statutes at Large i 29 Hen. VIII. 
c. 20. Mem. in the MSS. 

“ The whole was received into a common fund, for the fourfold purpose of sup¬ 
porting the clergy, repairing the church, relieving the poor, and entertaining the 
pilgrim and the stranger.”—“ The payment of Tithes had at first been voluntary, 
though it was considered as a religious obligation. King Ethelwolf, the father of 
Alfred, subjected the whole kingdom to it by a legislative act.” Southey’s Book of 
the Church; c. 6. Mem. in the MSS. 

Wickliffe’s followers asserted “ that Tithes were purely eleemosynary, and might 
be withheld by the people upon a delinquency in the pastor, and transferred to 
another at pleasure.” Brodie’s History of the British Empire. Introduction. Mem. 
in the MSS. 




Chap. 16 . 


LEGAL PROVISION, See. 


515 


have disdained to refer for its foundation to questions of expe¬ 
diency or the law of the land. And he probably as little thought 
that the divine right would ever have been given up by its advo¬ 
cates, as his successors now think that they have fallacious 
grounds in reasoning upon public utility. Thus it is that the 
labours of our predecessors in the cause of Christian purity 
have taken a large portion of labour out of our hands. They 
carried the outworks of the citadel; and whilst its defenders have 
retired to some inner strong hold, it becomes the business of our 
day to essay the firmness of its walls. The writer of these pages 
may essay them in vain; but he doubts not that before some 
power their defenders, as they have hitherto retired, will continue 
to retire, until the whole fortress is abandoned. Abandoned to 
the enemy ? Oh no.—He is the friend of a Christian community, 
who induces Christian principles into its practice. 

In considering the evidence which Christianity affords respect¬ 
ing the lawfulness of making a legal provision for one Christian 
church, I would not refer to those passages of Scripture which 
appear to bear upon the question whether Christian ministrations 
should be absolutely free : partly, because I can add nothing to 
the often urged tendency of those passages, and partly, because 
they do not all concern the question of legal provision. The man 
who thinks Christianity requires that those who labour in the 
gospel should live of the gospel, does not therefore think that 
a legal provision should be made for the ministers of one exclusive 
church. 

One thing seems perfectly clear—that to receive from their 
hearers and from those who heard them not, a compulsory pay¬ 
ment for their preaching, is totally alien to all the practices of the 
apostles and to the whole tenor of the principles, by which they 
were actuated. Their one single and simple motive in preaching 
Christianity, was to obey God, to do good to man; nor do I 
believe that any man imagines it possible that they would have 
accepted of a compulsory remuneration from their own hearers, 
and especially from those who heard them not. We are therefore 
entitled to repeat the observation, that this consideration affords 
evidence against the moral lawfulness of instituting such com¬ 
pulsory payment. Why would not, and could not, the apostles 
have accepted such payment, except for the reason that it ought 
not to be enforced 1 No account so far as I perceive, can be given 



516 COMPULSORY PAYMENT, &c. Essay 3, 

of the matter, but that the system is contrary to the purity of 
Christian practice. 

An English prelate writes thus: “ It is a question which 
might admit of serious discussion, whether the majority of the 
members of any civil community have a right to compel all the 
members of it to pay towards the maintenance of a set of teachers 
appointed by the majority to preach' a particular system of doc¬ 
trines.” 1 * No discussion could be entertained respecting this 
right, except on the ground of its Christian unlawfulness. A 
legislature has a right to impose a general tax to support a 
government, whether a minority approves the tax or not; and 
the bishop here rightly assumes that there is an antecedent ques¬ 
tion,—whether it is morally lawful to oblige men to pay teachers 
whom they disapprove 1 It is from the w'ant of taking this 
question into the account that inquirers have involved themselves 
in fallacious reasonings. It is not a question of the right of taxa¬ 
tion, but of the right of the magistrate to oblige men to violate 
their consciences. Of those who have regarded it simply as a 
question of taxation, and who therefore have proceeded upon 
fallacious grounds, the author of “ The Duties of Men in Society” 
is one. He says “ If a state thinks that national piety and virtue 
will be best promoted by consigning the whole sum raised by law 
to teachers of a particular description,—it has the same right to 
adopt this measure, as it would have to impose a general tax for 
the support of a board of physicians, should it deem that step 
conducive to national health.” Far other—No man’s Christian 
liberty is invaded, no man’s conscience is violated, by paying a 
tax to a board of physicians ; but many a man’s religious liberty 
may be invaded, and many a man’s conscience may be violated, 
by paying for the promulgation of doctrines which he thinks 
Christianity condemns. Whither will the argument lead us 1 If a 
papal state thinks it will promote piety to demand contributions 
for the splendid celebration of an auto de fe, would protestant 

1 See Quarterly Review, No. 58. 

* “ There was a party in the nation who conceived that every man should not only 
be allowed to choose his own religion, but contribute as he himself thought proper 
towards the support of the pastor whose duties he exacted. The party however does 
not appear to have been great. Yet let us not despise the opinion, but remember 
that it has been taken up by Dr. Adam Smith himself as a sound one, and been acted 
upon successfully in a vast empire, the United States of America.” Brodie’s History 
of the British Empire, v. 4, p. 365. Mem. in the MSS. 


Chap . 16 . AMERICA.—LEGAL PROVISION, &c. 


517 


citizens act rightly in contributing 1 Or would the state act rightly 
in demanding the contribution 1 Or has a Bramin state a right to 
impose a tax upon Christian residents to pay for the faggots of 
Hindoo immolations ? The antecedent question in all these cases 
is,—Whether the immolation, and the auto de fe, and the system 
of doctrines, are consistent with Christianity. If they are not, 
the citizen ought not to contribute to their practice or diffusion; 
and by consequence, the state ought not to compel him to contri¬ 
bute. Now, for the purposes of the present argument, the 
consistency of any set of doctrines with Christianity cannot- be 
proved. It is to no purpose for the Unitarian to say, My system 
is true; nor for the calvinist or arminian or episcopalian to say 
My system is true. The Unitarian has no Christian right to 
compel me to pay him for preaching unitarianism, nor has any 
religious community a right to compel the members of another to 
pay him for promulgating his own opinions. 

If by any revolution in the religious affairs of this country, 
another sect was elevated to the pre-eminence, and its ministers 
supported by a legal provision, I believe that the ministers of the 
present church would think it an unreasonable and unchristian 
act, to compel them to pay the preachers of the new state religion. 
Would not a clergyman think himself aggrieved, if he were obliged 
to pay a Priestley, and to aid in disseminating the opinions of 
Priestley I—That same grievance is now inflicted upon other men. 
The rule is disregarded, to do as we would be done by. 

Let us turn to the example of America. In America the 
government does not oblige its citizens to pay for the support of 
preachers. Those who join themselves to any particular religious 
community commonly contribute towards the support of its teach¬ 
ers, but there is no law of the state which compels it. This is as 
it should be. The government which obliged its citizens to pay, 
even if it were left to the individual to say to what class of 
preachers his money should be given, would act upon unsound 
principles. It may be that the citizen does not approve of pay¬ 
ing ministers at all; or there may be no sect in a country with 
which he thinks it right to hold communion. How would the 
reader himself be situated in Spain perhaps, or in Turkey, or in 
Hindostan 1 Would he think it right to be obliged to encourage 
Juggernaut, or Mahomet, or the Pope 1 

But, passing from this consideration: it is after all said, that in 



518 


A LEGAL PROVISION FOR 


Essay 3 . 


our own country the individual citizen does not pay the ministers 
of the state religion. I am glad that this seeming paradox is 
advanced, because it indicates that those who advance it confess 
that to make them pay would be wrong. Why else should they 
deny it ] It is said, then, that persons who pay tithes do not pay 
the established clergy; that tithes are property held as a person 
holds an estate; that if tithes were taken off, rents would advance 
to the same amount; that the buyer of an estate pays so much 
the less for it because it is subject to tithes,—and therefore that 
neither owner nor occupier pays any thing. This is specious, but 
only specious. The landholder “ pays” the clergyman just as he 
pays the tax-gatherer. If taxes were taken off rents would ad¬ 
vance just as much as if tithes were taken off; and a person may 
as well say that he does not pay taxes as that he does not pay 
tithes.—The simple fact is that an order of clergy are, in this 
respect, in the same situation as the body of stockholders who 
live upon their dividends. They are supported by the country. 
The people pay the stockholder in the form of taxes, and the 
clergyman in the form of tithes. Suppose every Clergyman in 
England were to leave the country to-morrow, and to cease 
to derive any income from it, it is manifest that the income 
which they now derive would be divided amongst those who 
remain,—that is, that those who now pay would cease to pay. 
Rent, and Taxes, and Tithes, are in these respects upon one foot¬ 
ing. Without now inquiring whether they are right, they are all 
payments,—something by which a man does not receive the 
whole of the product of his labour. 

The argument, therefore, which affirms that dissenters from the 
state religion do not pay to that religion, appears to be wholly 
fallacious; and being such, we are at liberty to assume, that to 
make them pay is indefensible and unchristian. For we repeat 
the observation, that he who is anxious to prove they do not pay, 
evinces his opinion that to compel them to pay would be wrong. 

There is some injustice in the legal provision for one church. 
The episcopalian when he has paid his teacher, or rather when 
he has contributed that portion towards the maintenance of his 
teacher which by the present system becomes his share, has no 
more to pay. The adherent to other churches has to pay his own 
preacher and his neighbour’s. This does not appear to be just. 
The operation of a legal provision is, in effect, to impose a double 


Chap. 16 . 


ONE CHURCH UNJUST. 


519 


lax upon one portion of the community without any fault on their 
part. Nor is it to any purpose to say that the dissenter from 
the episcopalian church imposes the tax on himself: so he does ; 
but it is, just in the same sense as a man imposes a penalty upon 
himself when he conforms to some prohibited point of Christian 
duty. A papist, two or three centuries ago, might almost as 
well have said that a protestant imposed the stake on himself, 
because he might have avoided it if he chose. It is a voluntary 
tax in no other way than as all other taxes are voluntary. It is a 
tax imposed by the state as truly as the window tax is imposed, 
because a man may, if he pleases, live in darkness ; or as a 
capitation tax is imposed, because a man may, if he pleases, 
lose bis head. 

But what is he who conscientiously disapproves of a state 
religion to do ? Is he, notwithstanding his judgment, to aid 
in supporting that religion, because the law requires it 1 No : 
for then, as it respects him, the obligation of the law is taken 
away. He is not to do what he believes Christianity forbids, 
because the state commands it. If public practice be a criterion 
of the public judgment, it may be concluded that the number 
of those who do thus believe respecting our state religion, is very 
small; for very few decline actively to support it. Yet when it 
is considered how numerous the dissenters from the English esta¬ 
blishment are, and how emphatically some of them disapprove the 
forms or doctrines of that establishment, it might be imagined 
that the number who decline thus to support it would, in con¬ 
sistency, be great. How are we to account for the fact as it 
is 1 Are we to suppose that the objections of these persons to the 
establishment are such as do not make it a case of conscience whe¬ 
ther they shall support it or not! Or are we to conclude that 
they sacrifice their consciences to the terrors of a distraint. If no 
case of conscience is involved, the dissenter, though he may 
think the state religion inexpedient, can hardly think it wrong. 
And if he do not think it wrong , why should he be so zealous in 
opposing it, or why should he expect the church to make con¬ 
cessions in his favour. If on the other hand he sacrifices his 
conscience to his fears, it is obvious that, before he reprehends the 
establishment, he should rectify himself. He should leave the 
mote, till he has taken out the beam. 

Perhaps there are some who seriously disapproving of the state 




520 PAYMENT OF TITHES BY DISSENTERS. Essay 3. 

religion, suspect that in Christian integrity they ought not to pay 
to its support,—and yet are not so fully convinced of this, or do 
not so fully act upon the conviction, as really to decline to pay. If 
they are convinced, let them remember their responsibility, and 
not know their master’s will in vain. If these are not faithful, 
where shall fidelity be found 1 How shall the Christian churches 
be purified from their defilements, if those who see and deplore 
their defilements contribute to their continuance 1 Let them, show 
that their principles are worthy a little sacrifice. Fidelity on 
their part, and a Christian submission to the consequences, jnight 
open the eyes and invigorate the religious principle of many 
more : and at length the objection to comply with these un¬ 
christian demands might be so widely extended, that the legis¬ 
lature would be induced to withdraw its legal provision; and thus 
one main constituent of an ecclesiastical system which has griev¬ 
ously obstructed, and still grievously obstructs, the Christian 
cause, might be taken away. 

As an objection to this fidelity of practice it has been said, 
that since a man rents or buys an estate for so much less because 
it is subject to tithes, it is an act of dishonesty, afterwards, 
to refuse to pay them. The answer is this—that no dishonesty 
can be committed whilst the law exacts payment by distraint; and 
if the law were altered, there is no place for dishonesty. Besides, 
the desire of saving money does not enter into the refuser’s 
motives. He does not decline to pay from motives of interest bit 
from motives of duty. 

It is however argued that the legislature has no right to take 
away tithes any more than it has a right to deprive citizens 
of their lands and houses ; and that a man’s property in tithes is 
upon a footing with his property in an estate. Now we answer 
that this is not true in fact; and that if it were it would not 
serve the argument. 

It is not true in fact. — If tithes were a property, just as 
an estate is a property, why do men complain of the scandal 
of pluralities 1 Who ever hears of the scandal of possessing 
three or four estates 1 —Why again does the law punish simoniacal 
contracts 1 Who ever hears of simoniacal contracts for lands and 
houses 1 The truth is, that tithes are regarded as religious pro¬ 
perty.—The property is legally recognised not for the sake of the 
individual who may possess it but for the sake of religion. The 


Chap. 16. TITHES A “ PROPERTY OF THE CHURCH/’ 521 

law cares nothing for the men, except so far as they are ministers 
—Besides, tithes are a portion of the produce only of the land. 
The tithe-owner cannot walk over an estate and say, of every 
tenth acre, this is mine. In truth he has not, except by consent 
of the landholder, any property in it at all; for the landholder may 
if he pleases, refuse to cultivate it, — occasion it to produce 
nothing; and then the tithe owner has no interest or property 
in it whatever. And in what sense can that be said to be 
property, the possession of which is at the absolute discretion of 
another man ] 

But grant, for a moment, that tithes are property. Is it 
affirmed that whatever property a man possesses, cannot be taken 
from him by the legislature 1 Suppose I go to Jamaica and pur¬ 
chase a slave and bring him to England, has the law no right to 
take this property away 1 Assuredly it has the right, and it 
exercises it too. Now, so far as the argument is concerned, the 
cases of the slave-holder and of the tithe-owner are parallel. 
Compulsory maintenance of Christian ministers, and compulsory 
retention of men in bondage, are both inconsistent with Christianity ; 
and as such, the property which consists in slaves, and in tithes, 
may rightly be taken away.—Unless indeed any man will affirm 
that any property, however acquired, cannot lawfully be taken 
from the possessor. But when we speak of taking away the 
property in tithes, we do not refer to the consideration that it has 
been under the sanction of the law itself that that property has 
been purchased or obtained. The law has, in reality, been 
accessory to the offence, and it would not be decent or right 
to take away the possession which has resulted from that offence, 
without offering an equivalent. I would not advise a legislature 
to say to those persons who, under its own sanction, have pur¬ 
chased slaves, to turn upon them and say, I am persuaded that 
slavery is immoral, and therefore I command you to set your slaves 
at liberty;—and because you have no moral right to hold them, 
I shall not grant you a compensation. Nor, for the same reasons, 
would I advise a legislature to say so to the possessor of tithes. 

But what sort of a compensation is to be offered I Not surely 
an amount equivalent to the principal money, computing tithes as 
interest. The compensation is for life interest only. The legis¬ 
lature would have to buy off, not a freehold but an annuity. The 
tithe-owner is not like the slave-holder, who can bequeath his 



522 


VOLUNTARY PAYMENT OF MINISTERS. Essay 3. 


property to another. When the present incumbent dies, the 
tithes, as property, cease to exist,—until it is again appropriated 
to an incumbent by the patron of the living. This is true except 
in the instances of those deplorable practices, the purchase of ad- 
vowsons, or of any other by which individuals or bodies acquire a 
pecuniary interest in the right of disposal. 

The notion that tithes are a “ property of the church,” is quite 
a fiction. In this sense, what is the church] If no individual 
man has his property taken away by a legislative abolition of 
tithes, it is unmeaning to talk of “the church” having lost it. 

It is perhaps a vain thing to talk of how the legislature might 
do a thing which perhaps it may not resolve, for ages, to do at all. 
But if it were to take away the right to tithes as the present 
incumbents died, or as the interests of the present owners ceased, 
there would be no reason to complain of injustice, whatever there 
might be of procrastinating the fulfilment of a Christian duty. 

Whether a good man, knowing the inconsistency of forced 
maintenance with the Christian law, ought to accept a proffered 
equivalent for that maintenance, is another consideration. If it is 
wrong to retain it, it is not obvious how it can be right, or how at 
least it can avoid the appearance of evil, to accept money for 
giving it up. It is upon these principles that the religious com¬ 
munity who decline to pay tithes, decline also to receive them. 
By legacy or otherwise, the legal right is sometimes possessed by 
these persons, but their moral discipline requires alike a refusal 
to receive or to pay. 


VOLUNTARY PAYMENT . 1 

That this system possesses many advantages over a legal 
provision we have already seen. But this does not imply that 
even voluntary payment is conformable with the dignity of the 
Christian ministry, with its usefulness, or with the requisitions of 
the Christian law. 

And here I am disposed, in the outset, to acknowledge that the 
question of payment is involved in an antecedent question,'—the 
necessary qualifications of a Christian minister. If one of these 

1 “ Thou shalt take no gift: for the gift blindeth the wise, and perverteth the words 
of the righteous.”—-Exod. xxiii. 8. Mem. in the MSS. 



Chap. 16. THE PAYMENT OF CHRISTIAN MINISTERS. 523 


necessary qualifications be, that he should devote his youth and 
early manhood to theological studies, or to studies or exercises 
of any kind, I do not perceive how the propriety of voluntary 
payment can be disputed: for, when a man who might otherwise 
have fitted himself, in a counting house or an office, for procuring 
his after support, employs his time necessarily in qualifying him¬ 
self for a Christian instructor, it is indispensable that he should be 
paid for his instructions. Or, if after he has assumed the minis¬ 
terial function, it be his indispensable business to devote all 
or the greater portion of his time to studies or other preparations 
for the pulpit, the same necessity remains. He must be paid for 
his ministry, because, in order to be a minister, he is prevented 
from maintaining himself. 

But the necessary qualifications of a minister of the gospel 
cannot here be discussed. We pass on therefore with the simple 
expression of the sentiment, that how beneficial soever a theolo¬ 
gical education and theological inquiries may be in the exercise of 
the office, yet that they form no necessary qualifications;—that 
men may be, and that some are, true and sound ministers of that 
gospel, without them. 

Now, in inquiring into Ihe Christian character and tendency, of 
payment for preaching Christianity, one position will perhaps be 
recognised as universally true,—that if the same ability and zeal 
in the exercise of the ministry could be attained without payment 
as with it, the payment might reasonably and rightly be forborne. 
Nor will it perhaps be disputed, that if Christian teachers of the 
present day were possessed of some good portion of the qualifi¬ 
cations, and were actuated by the motives, of the first teachers of 
our religion,—stated remuneration would not be needed. If love 
for mankind, and “ the ability which God giveth,” were strong 
enough to induce and to enable men to preach the gospel without 
payment, the employment of money as a motive would be with¬ 
out use or propriety. Remuneration is a contrivance adapted to 
an imperfect state of the Christian church:—-nothing but im¬ 
perfection can make it needful: and when that imperfection shall 
be removed, it will cease to be needful again. 

These considerations would lead us to expect, even antecedently 
to inquiry, that some ill effects are attendant upon the system of 
remuneration. Respecting these effects one of the advocates of a 



524 THE PAYMENT OF CHRISTIAN MINISTERS. Essay 3. 


legal provision holds language which, though it be much too 
strong, nevertheless contains much truth. “ Upon the voluntary 
plan,” says Dr. Paley, preaching, in time, would become a mode 
of begging. With what sincerity or with what dignity can a 
preacher dispense the truths of Christianity, whose thoughts are 
perpetually solicited to the reflection how he may increase his 
subscription ] His eloquence, if he possess any, resembles rather 
the exhibition of a player who is computing the profits of his 
theatre, than the simplicity of a man who, feeling himself the 
awful expectations of religion, is seeking to bring others to such 
a sense and understanding of their duty as may save their souls. 
—He, not only whose success but whose subsistence depends 
upon collecting and pleasing a crowd, must resort to other arts 
than the acquirement and communication of sober and profitable 
instruction. For a preacher to be thus at the mercy of his 
audience, to be obliged to adapt his doctrines to the pleasure of a 
capricious multitude, to be continually affecting a style and man¬ 
ner neither natural to him nor agreeable to his judgment, to live 
in constant bondage to tyrannical and insolent directors, are 
circumstances so mortifying not only to the pride of the human 
heart but to the virtuous love of independency, that they are rarely 
submitted to without a sacrifice of principle and a depravation of 
character;—at least it may be pronounced that a ministry so 
degraded would soon fall into the lowest hands; for it w'ould be 
found impossible to engage men of worth and ability in so preca¬ 
rious and humiliating a profession.” 1 

To much of this it is a sufficient answer, that the predictions 
are contradicted by the fact. Of those teachers who are sup¬ 
ported by voluntary subscriptions, it is not true that their elo¬ 
quence resembles the exhibition of a player who is computing the 
profits of his theatre; for the fact is that a very large proportion 
of them assiduously devote themselves from better motives to the 
religious benefit of their flocks:—it is not true that the office 
is rarely undertaken without what can be called a depravation of 
character; for the character, both religious and moral, of those 
teachers who are voluntarily paid, is at least as exemplary as 
that of those who are paid by provision of the state:—it is 
not true that the office falls into the lowest hands, and that 
1 Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 6, c. ] 0. 


Chap. 16. ILL EFFECTS OF REMUNERATION. 


525 


it is impossible to engage men of worth and ability in the 
profession, because very many of such men are actually en¬ 
gaged in it. 

But although the statements of the Archdeacon are not wholly 
true, they are true in part. Preaching will become a mode of 
begging. When a congregation wants a preacher, and we see a 
man get into the pulpit expressly and confessedly to show how he 
can preach, in order that the hearers may consider how they like 
him, and when one object of his thus doing is confessedly to obtain 
an income, there is reason,—not certainly for speaking of him as 
a beggar,—but for believing that the dignity and freedom of the 
gospel are sacrificed.— Thoughts perpetually solicited to the reflec¬ 
tion how he may increase his subscription. Supposing this to be 
the language of exaggeration, supposing the increase of his sub¬ 
scription to be his subordinate concern, yet still it is his concern; 
and being his concern, it is his temptation. It is to be feared, 
that by the influence of this temptation his sincerity and his inde¬ 
pendence may be impaired, that the consideration of what his 
hearers wish rather than of what he thinks they need, may prompt 
him to sacrifice his conscience to his profit, and to add or to deduct 
something from, the counsel of God. Such temptation necessarily 
exists; and it were only to exhibit ignorance of the motives of 
human conduct to deny that it will sometimes prevail.— To live in 
constant bondage to insolent and tyrannical directors. It is not 
necessary to suppose that directors will be tyrannical or insolent, 
nor by consequence to suppose that the preacher is in a state of 
constant bondage. But if they be not tyrants and he a slave, 
they may be masters and he a servant. A servant in a sense far 
different from that in which the Christian minister is required to 
be a servant of the church, in a sense which implies an undue 
subserviency of his ministrations to the will of men, and which 
is incompatible with the obligation to have no master but Christ. 

Other modes of voluntary payment may be and perhaps they 
are adopted, but the effect will not be essentially different. Sub¬ 
scriptions may be collected from a number of congregations and 
thrown into a common fund, which fund may be appropriated by’ 
a directory or conference: but the objections still apply; for he 
who wishes to obtain an income as a preacher, has then to try to 
propitiate the directory instead of a congregation, and the tempta¬ 
tion to sacrifice his independence and his conscience remains. 


526 


ILL EFFECTS OF REMUNERATION. Essay 3. 


There is no way of obtaining emancipation from this subjec¬ 
tion, no way of avoiding this temptation, but by a system in 
which the Christian ministry is absolutely free. 

But the ill effects of thus paying preachers are not confined to 
those who preach. The habitual consciousness that the preacher 
is paid, and the notion which some men take no pains to separate 
from this consciousness, that he preaches because he is paid, have 
a powerful tendency to diminish the influence of his exhortations 
and the general effect of his labours. The vulgarly irreligious 
think, or pretend to think, that it is a sufficient excuse for disre¬ 
garding these labours to say, They are a matter of course,— 
preachers must say something, because it is their trade. And it 
is more than to be feared that notions, the same in kind how¬ 
ever different in extent, operate upon a large proportion of the 
community. It is not probable that it should be otherwise; and 
thus it is that a continual deduction is made by the hearer from 
the preacher’s disinterestedness or sincerity, and a continual de¬ 
duction therefore from the effect of his labours. 

How seldom can such a pastor say, with full demonstration of 
sincerity, “ I seek not your’s but you.” The flock may indeed 
be, and happily it often is, his first and greatest motive to exer¬ 
tion ; but the demonstrative evidence that it is so, can only be 
afforded by those whose ministrations are absolutely free. The 
deduction which is thus made from the practical influence of the 
labours of stipended preachers, is the same in kind (though differ¬ 
ing in amount) as that which is made from a pleader’s addresses 
in court. He pleads because he is paid for pleading. Who does 
not perceive that if an able man came forward and pleaded in a 
cause without a retainer, and simply from the desire that justice 
should be awarded, he would be listened to with much more of 
confidence, and that his arguments would have much more weight, 
than if the same words were uttered by a barrister who was 
feed! A similar deduction is made from the writings of paid 
ministers, especially if they advocate their own particular faith. 
« He is interested evidence,” says the reader,—he has got a 
retainer, and of course argues for his client; and thus arguments 
that may be invincible, and facts that may be incontrovertibly 
true, lose some portion of their effect, even upon virtuous men, 
and a large portion upon the bad, because the preacher is paid. 
If, as is sometimes the case, “ the amount of the salary given is 


Chap. 16. QUALIFICATIONS OF A MINISTER. 


527 


regulated very precisely by the frequency of the ministry re¬ 
quired,”—so that a hearer may possibly allow the reflection, The 
preacher will get half a guinea for the sermon he is going to 
preach,—it is almost impossible that the dignity of the Christian 
ministry should not be reduced, as well as that the influence of his 
exhortations should not be diminished. “ It is however more 
desirable,” says Milton, “ for example to be, and for the prevent¬ 
ing of offence or suspicion, as well as more noble and honourable 
in itself, and conducive to our more complete glorying in God, to 
render an unpaid service to the church, in this as well as in all 
other instances; and after the example of our Lord, to minister 
and serve gratuitously.” 1 

Some ministers expend all the income which they derive from 
their office in acts of beneficence. To these we may safely appeal 
for confirmation of these remarks. Do you not find that the 
consciousness, in the minds of your hearers, that you gain nothing 
by your labour, greatly increases its influence upon them 1 Do 
you not find that they listen to you with more confidence and 
regard, and more willingly admit the truths which you inculcate 
and conform to the advices which you impart ? If these things be 
so,—and who will dispute it 1—how great must be the aggregate 
obstruction which pecuniary remuneration opposes to the influence 
of religion in the world! 


But indeed it is not practicable to the writer to illustrate the 
whole of what he conceives to be the truth upon this subject, 
without a brief advertence to the qualifications of the minister of 
the gospel: because, if his view of these qualifications be just, 
the stipulation for such and such exercise of the ministry, and 
such and such payment is impossible. If it is “ admitted that the 
ministry of the gospel is the work of the Lord, that it can be 
rightly exercised only in virtue of his appointment,” and only 
when “ a necessity, is laid upon the minister to preach the 
gospel,”—it is manifest, that he cannot engage before hand to 
preach when others desire it. It is manifest, that “ the compact 
which binds the minister to preach on the condition that his 


Christian Doctrine ; p. 484. 



528 


DAYS OF GREATER PURITY. 


Essay 3. 


hearers shall pay him for his preaching, assumes the character 
of absolute inconsistency with the spirituality of the Christian 
religion .” 1 

Freely ye have received, freely give. When we contemplate 
a Christian minister who illustrates both in his commission and in 
his practice, this language of his Lord; who teaches, advises, 
reproves, with the authority and affection of a commissioned 
teacher; who fears not to displease his hearers, and desires not 
to receive their reward; who is under no temptation to withhold, 
and does not withhold, any portion of that counsel which he 
thinks God designs for his churchwhen we contemplate such 
a man, we may feel somewhat of thankfulness and of joy;—of 
thankfulness and joy that the Universal Parent thus enables his 
creatures to labour for the good of one another, in that same spirit 
in which he cares for them and blesses them himself. 

I censure not, either in word or in thought, him who, in since¬ 
rity of mind, accepts remuneration for his labours in the church. 
It may not be inconsistent with the dispensations of Providence, 
that in the present imperfect condition of the Christian family, im¬ 
perfect principles respecting the ministry should be permitted to 
prevail: nor is it to be questioned that some of those who do 
receive remuneration, are fulfilling their proper allotments in the 
universal church. But this does not evince that we should not 
anticipate the arrival, and promote the extension, of a more per¬ 
fect state. It does not evince that a higher allotment may not 
await their successors,—that days of greater purity and bright¬ 
ness may not arrive ;—of purity, when every motive of the Christ¬ 
ian minister shall be simply Christian; and of brightness, when 

1 I would venture to suggest to some of those to whom these considerations are 
offered, whether the notion that a preacher i3 a ‘ sine qua non of the exercise of 
public worship, is not taken up without sufficient consideration of the principles 
which it involves. If, “ where two or three are gathered together in the name” of 
Christ, there he, the minister of the sanctuary, is “ in the midst of them,” it surely 
cannot be necessary to the exercises of such worship, that another preacher should be 
there. Surely too, it derogates something from the excellence, something from the 
glory of the Christian dispensation, to assume that if a number of Christians should 
be so situated as to be without a preacher, there the public worship of God cannot 
be performed. This may often happen in remote places, in voyages or the like: 
and I have sometimes been impressed with the importance of these considerations 

when I have heard a person say “-- is absent, and therefore there will be no 

divine service this morning.” 



Chap. 16. DAYS OF GREATER PURITY. 529 

the light of truth shall be displayed with greater effulgence. 
When the Great Parent of all shall thus turn his favour towards 
his people; when He shall supply them with teachers exclusively 
of his own appointment, it will be perceived that the ordinary 
present state of the Christian ministry is adapted only to the 
twilight of the Christian day; and some of those who now faith¬ 
fully labour in this hour of twilight will be amongst the first to 
rejoice in the greater glory of the noon. 



CHAPTER XVII. 


PATRIOTISM. 

We are presented with a beautiful subject of contemplation, 
when we discover that the principles which Christianity advances 
upon its own authority, are recommended and enforced by their 
practical adaptation to the condition and the wants of man. With 
such a subject I think we are presented in the case of Patriotism. 

“ Christianity does not encourage particular ^patriotism in oppo¬ 
sition to general benignity.” 1 If it did, it would not be adapted 
for the world. The duties of the subject of one state w r ould often 
be in opposition to those of the subject of another, and men might 
inflict evil or misery upon neighbour nations in conforming to the 
Christian law. Christianity is designed to benefit, not a commu¬ 
nity but the world. The promotion of the interests of one 
community by injuring another,—that is, “ patriotism in opposition 
to general benignity,”—it utterly rejects as wrong; and in doing 
this, it does that which in a system of such wisdom and benevo¬ 
lence we should expect.—“ The love of our country,” says Adam 
Smith, “ seems not to be derived from the love of mankind.” 2 

I do not mean to say that the word patriotism is to be found in 
the New Testament, or that it contains any disquisitions respecting 
the proper extent of the love of our country,—but I say that the 
universality of benevolence which Christianity inculcates, both 
in its essential character and in its precepts, is incompatible with 
that patriotism which would benefit our own community at the 
expense of general benevolence. Patriotism, as it is often advo¬ 
cated, is a low and selfish principle, a principle wholly unworthy 
of that enlightened and expanded philanthropy which religion 
proposes. 

Nevertheless, Christianity appears not to encourage the doc- 

1 Bishop Watson. 

2 Theo. Mor. Sent. The limitation with which this opinion should be regarded we 
shalj presently propose. 



Chap. 17 . AS VIEWED BY CHRISTIANITY. 


531 


trine of being a “ citizen of the world/’ and of paying no more 
regard to our own community than to every other. And why] 
Because such a doctrine is not rational; because it opposes the 
exercise of natural and virtuous feelings; and because, if it were 
attempted to be reduced to practice, it may be feared that it would 
destroy confined benignity without effecting a counterbalancing 
amount of universal philanthropy. This preference of our own 
nation is indicated in that strong language of Paul, “ I could wish 
that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kins¬ 
men according to the flesh, who are Israelites.” 1 And a similar 
sentiment is inculcated by the admonition,—“ As we have, there¬ 
fore, opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them 
who are of the household of faith.” 2 In another place the same 
sentiment is applied to more private life;—“ If any provide not 
for his own, and specially for those of his own house , he hath de¬ 
nied the faith.” 3 

All this is perfectly consonant with reason and with nature. 
Since the helpless and those who need assistance must obtain it 
somewhere, where can they so rationally look for it, where shall 
they look for it at all, except from those with whom they are con¬ 
nected in society I If these do not exercise benignity towards 
them, who will 1 And as to the dictate of nature, it is a law of 
nature that a man shall provide for his own. He is prompted to 
do this by the impulse of nature. Who indeed shall support and 
cherish and protect a child if his parents do not ? That specula¬ 
tive philosophy is vain which would supplant these dictates by 
doctrines of general philanthropy. It cannot be applicable to 
human affairs until there is an alteration in the human constitution. 
Not only religion therefore, but reason and nature reject that phi¬ 
losophy which teaches that no man should prefer or aid another be¬ 
cause he is his countryman, his neighbour, or his child for even 
this, the philosophy has taught us; and we have been seriously told 
that, in pursuance of general philanthropy, we ought not to cherish 
or support our own offspring in preference to other children. The 
effect of these doctrines, if they were reduced to practice, would 
be not to diffuse universal benevolence, but to contract or destroy 
the charities of men for their families, their neighbours, and their 
country. It is an idle system of philosophy which sets out with 
extinguishing those principles of human nature which the Creator 
1 Rom. ix. 3. 2 Gal. vi. 10. 3 j Tim< v . 8> 


532 


PATRIOTISM WHICH IS OPPOSED, &c. Essay 3. 


has implanted for wise and good ends. He that shall so far suc¬ 
ceed in practising this philosophy as to look with indifference 
upon his parent, his wife, and his son, will not often be found with 
much zeal to exercise kindness and benevolence to the world at 
large. 

Christianity rejects alike the extravagance of Patriotism and 
the extravagance of seeming philanthropy. Its precepts are ad¬ 
dressed to us as men with human constitutions, and as men in 
society. But to cherish and support my own child rather than 
others; to do good to my neighbours rather than to strangers; to 
benefit my own country rather than another nation, does not im¬ 
ply that we may injure other nations, or strangers, or their chil¬ 
dren, in order to do good to our own. Here is the point for 
discrimination,—a point which vulgar patriotism and vulgar phi¬ 
losophy have alike overlooked. 

The proper mode in which Patriotism should be exercised is 
that which does not necessarily respect other nations. He is the 
truest patriot who benefits his own country without diminishing 
the welfare of another. For which reason, those who induce im¬ 
provements in the administration of justice, in the maxims of 
governing, in the political constitution of the state,—or those who 
extend and rectify the education, or in any other manner amend 
the moral or social condition of a people, possess incomparably 
higher claims to the praise of patriotism than multitudes of those 
who receive it from the popular voice. 

That patriotism which is manifested in political partisanship, is 
frequently of a very questionable kind. The motives to this par¬ 
tisanship are often far other than the love of our country, even 
when the measure which a party pursues tends to the country’s 
good; and many are called patriots of whom both the motives and 
the actions are pernicious or impure. The most vulgar and un¬ 
founded talk of patriotism is that which relates to the agents of 
military operations. In general, the patriotism is of a kind which 
Christianity condemns; because it is “ in opposition to general 
benignity.” It does more harm to another country than good to 
our own. In truth, the merit often consists in the harm that is 
done to another country with but little pretensions to benefiting 
our own. These agents therefore if they were patriotic at all, 
would commonly be so in an unchristian sense. And as to their 
being influenced by patriotism as a motive, the notion is ordina- 


Chap. 17. PATRIOTISM NOT THE SOLDIER’S MOTIVE. 533 

rily quite a fiction. When a Frenchman is sent with ten thou¬ 
sand others into Spain, or a Spaniard with an army into France, 
he probably is so far from acting the patriot that he does not know 
whether his country would not be more benefited by throwing- 
down his arms;—nor probably does he know about what the two 
nations are quarrelling. Men do not enter armies because they 
love their countries, but because they want a living, or are pleased 
with a military life: and when they have entered, they do not 
fight because they love their country, but because fighting is their 
business. At the very moment of fighting the nation at home is 
perhaps divided in opinion as to the propriety of carrying on the 
war. One party maintains that the war is beneficial, and one that 
it is ruining the nation. But the soldier, for whatever he fights, 
and whether really in promotion of his country’s good or in oppo¬ 
sition to it, is secure of his praise. 

All this is sufficiently deceptive and absurd: the delusion 
would be ridiculous if the topic were not too grave for ridicule. 
It forms one amongst the many fictions by which the reputation 
of military affairs is kept up. Why such fictions are needful to 
the purpose, it may be wise for the reader to inquire. I suppose 
the cause is, that truth and reality would not serve the purposes 
of military reputation, and therefore that recourse is had to plea¬ 
sant fictions. This may however have been done without a dis¬ 
tinct consciousness, on the part of the inventors, of the delusions 
which they spread. I do not wholly coincide with the writer who 
says,—“ The love of our country is one of those specious illusions 
which have been invented by impostors in order to render the 
multitude the blind instruments of their crooked designs.” 1 The 
love of our country is a virtuous motive of action. The “ speci¬ 
ous illusion” consists in calling that “ love of our country” which 
ought to be called by a far other name. As to those who have 
thus misnamed human motives and actions, I know not whether 
they have often been such wily impostors. The probable suppo¬ 
sition is, that they have frequently been duped themselves. He 
whom ambition urged on to conquest, tried to persuade himself, 
and perhaps did persuade himself, that he was actuated by the 
love of his country. He persuaded, also, his followers in arms ; 
and they no doubt were sufficiently willing to hope that they were 
influenced by such a motive. But, in whatever manner the fiction 
1 Godwin; Pol. Justice, v. 2, p. 514. 


534 


PATRIOTISM. 


Essay 3 . 


originated, a fiction it assuredly is; and the circumstance that it is 
still industriously imposed upon the world, is no inconsiderable 
evidence that the system which it is employed to encourage, would 
shrink from the eye of virtue and the light of truth. 

Upon the whole, we shall act both safely and wisely in lower¬ 
ing the relative situation of patriotism in the scale of Christian 
virtues. It is a virtue; but it is far from the greatest or the 
highest. The world has given to it an unwarranted elevation,— 
an elevation to which it has no pretensions in the view of truth; 
and if the friends of truth consign it to its proper station, it is 
probable that there will be fewer spurious pretensions to its 
praise. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


SLAVERY. 

At a future day, it will probably become a subject of wonder, 
how it could have happened that upon such a subject as Slavery, 
men could have inquired and examined and debated, year after 
year; and that many years actually passed before the minds of a 
nation were so fully convinced of its enormity, and of their con¬ 
sequent duty to abolish it, as to suppress it to the utmost of their 
power. I say this will probably be a subject of wonder; because 
the question is so simple that he who. simply applies the requisi¬ 
tions of the Moral Law, finds no time for reasoning or for doubt. 
The question, as soon as it is proposed, is decided. How then, it 
will be asked in future days, could a Christian legislature argue 
and contend, and contend and argue again; and allow an age to 
pass without deciding 1 

The cause is, that men do not agree as to the rule of decision, 
—as to the test by which the question should be examined. One 
talks of the rights to property,—one of the interests of merchants, 
—one of safety,—one of policy;—all which are valid and proper 
considerations; but they are not the primary consideration. The 
first question is, Is Slavery right 1 Is it consistent with the Moral 
Law 1 This question is in practice postponed to others, even by 
some who theoretically acknowledge its primary claim : and when 
to the indistinct principles of these, is added the w r ant of princi¬ 
ple in others, it is easy to account for the delay and opposition 
with which the advocate of simple rectitude is met. 

To him who examines slavery by the standard to which all 
questions of human duty should be referred, the task of deciding 
we say is short. Whether it is consistent with the Christian Law 
for one man to keep another in bondage without his consent, and 
to compel him to labour for that other’s advantage, admits of no 
more doubt than whether two and two make four. It were humi¬ 
liating, then, to set about the proof that the Slave System is in- 




536 


REQUISITIONS OF MORAL LAW. 


Essay 3 . 


compatible with Christianity; because no man questions its 
incompatibility who knows what Christianity is and what it 
requires. Unhappily, some who can estimate, with tolerable 
precision, the duties of morality upon other subjects, contemplate 
this through a veil,—a veil which habit has suspended before 
them, and which is dense enough to intercept the view of the 
moral features of slavery as they are presented to others who 
examine it without an intervening medium, and with no other 
light than the light of truth. To these, the best counsel that we 
can offer is to simplify their reasonings,—to recur to first princi¬ 
ples ; and first principles are few. Look then, at the foundation 
of all the relative duties of man,—Benevolence,—Love;—that 
love and benevolence which is the fulfilling of the Moral Law,— 
that “ charity” which prompts to actions of kindness, and tender¬ 
ness, and fellow feeling for all men. Does he who seizes a person 
in Guinea and drags him shrieking to a vessel, practise this bene¬ 
volence 1 When three or four hundreds have been thus seized, does 
he who chains them together in a suffocating hold, practise this 
benevolence 1 When they have reached another shore, does he who 
gives money to the first for his victims,—keeps them as his pro¬ 
perty,—and compels them to labour for his profit, practise this 
benevolence? Would either of these persons think, if their re¬ 
lative situations were exchanged with the African’s, that the 
Africans used them kindly and justly? No. Then the question 
is decided: Christianity condemns the system; and no further 
inquiry about rectitude remains. The question is as distinctly 
settled as, when a man commits a burglary it is distinctly certain 
that he has violated the law. 

But of the flagitiousness of the system in the view of Christi¬ 
anity, its defenders are themselves aware,-—for they tell us, if not 
with decency at least with openness, that Christianity must be 
excluded from the inquiry. What does this exclusion imply ? 
Obviously, that the advocates of slavery are conscious that 
Christianity condemns it. They take her away from the judg¬ 
ment seat, because they know she will pronounce a verdict against 
them.—Does the reader desire more than this? Here is the 
evidence, both of enemies and of friends, that the Moral Law of 
God condemns the slave system. If therefore we are Christians, 
the question is not merely decided, but confessedly decided: 
and what more do we ask ? 


Chap. 18. THE REQUISITIONS OF CHRISTIANITY, &c. 537 

It is, to be sure, a curious thing, that they who affirm they are 
Christians, will not have their conduct examined by the Christian 
Law; and whilst they baptize their children and kneel at the 
communion table, tell us that with one of the greatest questions 
of practical morality our religion has no concern. 

Two reasons induce the writer to confine himself, upon this 
subject, to little more than the exhibition of fundamental princi¬ 
ples;—first, that the details of the Slavery question are already 
laid, in unnumbered publications, before the public ; and secondly, 
that he does not think it will long remain, at least in this country, 
a subject for discussion. That the system will, so far as the 
British government is concerned, at no distant period be abolished, 
appears nearly certain; and he is unwilling to fill the pages of a 
book of general morality with discussions which, ere many years 
have passed, may possess no relevance to the affairs of the 
Christian world. 

Yet one remark is offered as to a subordinate means of estimat¬ 
ing the goodness or badness of a cause,—that which consists in 
referring to the principles upon which each party reasons, to the 
general spirit, to the tone and the temper of the disputants. Now, 
I am free to confess, that if I had never heard an argument 
against Slavery, I should find, in the writings of its defenders, 
satisfactory evidence that their cause is bad. So true is this, 
that if at any time I needed peculiarly to impress myself with the 
flagitiousness .of the system, I should take up the book of a deter¬ 
mined advocate. There I find the most unequivocal of all testi¬ 
mony against it,—that which is unwittingly furnished by its 
advocates. There I find, first, that the fundamental principles of 
morality are given to the winds;—that the proper foundation of 
the reasoning is rejected and ridiculed. There I find that the 
temper and dispositions which are wont to influence the advocate 
of a good cause, are scarcely to be found; and that those which 
usually characterize a bad one, continually appear; and therefore, 
even setting aside inaccurate statements and fallacious reasonings, 
I am assured, from the general character of the defence, and con¬ 
duct of the defenders, that the system is radically vicious and bad. 

The distinctions which are made between the original robbery 
in Africa, and the purchase, the inheritance, or the “ breeding” of 
slaves in the colonies, do not at all respect the kind of immorality 
that attaches to the whole system. They respect nothing but the 


538 PERSIAN LAW.—CRIMINALS MADE SLAVES. Essay 3. 


degree. The man who wounds and robs another on the highway, 
is a more atrocious offender than he who plunders a hen-roost;— 
but he is not more truly an offender, he is not more certainly a 
violator of the law. And so with the slave system. He who 
drags a wretched man from his family in Africa, is a more flagiti¬ 
ous transgressor than he who merely compels the African to labour 
for his own advantage; but the transgression, the immorality, is 
as real and certain in one case as in the other. He who had no 
right to steal the African can have none to sell him. From him 
who is known to have no right to sell, another can have no right 
to buy or to possess. Sale, or gift, or legdcy, imparts no right to 
me, because the seller, or giver, or bequeather, had none himself. 
The sufferer has just as valid a claim to liberty at my hands as at 
the hands of the ruffian who first dragged him from his home.— 
Every hour of every day, the present possessor is guilty of in¬ 
justice. Nor is the case altered with respect to those who are 
born on a man’s estate. The parents were never the landholder’s 
property, and therefore the child is not. Nay, if the parents had 
been rightfully slaves, it would not justify me in making slaves of 
their children. No man has a right to make a child a slave, but 
himself. What are our sentiments upon kindred subjects 1 
What do we think of the justice of the Persian system, by which 
when a state offender is put to death his brothers and his children 
are killed or mutilated too 1 Or, to come nearer to the point as 
well as nearer home, what should we say of a law which enacted 
that of every criminal who was sentenced to labour for life, all the 
children should be sentenced so to labour also 1 —And yet if there 
is any comparison of reasonableness, it seems to be in one respect 
in favour of the culprit. He is condemned to slavery for his 
crimes: the African, for another man’s profit. 

That any human being who has not- forfeited his liberty by his 
crimes, has a right to be free,—and that whosoever forcibly with¬ 
holds liberty from an innocent man, robs him of his right and 
violates the Moral Law, are truths which no man would dispute 
or doubt, if custom had not obscured our perceptions, or if wicked¬ 
ness did not prompt us to close our eyes. 

The whole system is essentially and radically bad:—Injustice 
and oppression are its fundamental principles. Whatever lenity 
may be requisite in speaking of the agent, none should be shown, 
none should be expressed, for the act. I do not affirm or imagine 


Chap. 18. THE SLAVE SYSTEM—A COSTLY INIQUITY. 539 

that every slave-holder is therefore a wicked man;—but if he be 
not, it is only upon the score of ignorance. If he is exempt from 
the guilt of violating the Moral Law, it is only because he does 
not perceive what it requires. Let us leave the deserts of the 
individual to Him who knoweth the heart: of his actions, we may 
speak; and we should speak in the language of reprobation, dis¬ 
gust, and abhorrence. 

Although it could be shown that the slave system is expedient 
it would not affect the question whether it ought to be maintained: 
—yet it is remarkable that it is shown to be impolitic as well as 
bad. We are not violating the Moral Law because it fills our 
pockets. We injure ourselves by our own transgressions. The 
slave system is a costly iniquity both to the nation and to 
individual men. It is matter of great satisfaction that this is 
known and proved: and yet it is just what, antecedently to in¬ 
quiry, we should have reason to expect. The truth furnishes one 
addition to the many evidences, that even with respect to temporal 
affairs, that which is right is commonly politic; and it ought 
therefore to furnish additional inducements to a fearless conformity 
of conduct, private and public, to the Moral Law. 

It is quite evident that our slave system will be abolished, and 
that its supporters will hereafter be regarded with the same 
public feelings, as he who was an advocate of the slave trade, is 
now. How is it that legislators or that public men are so indif¬ 
ferent to their fame 1 Who would now be willing that biography 
should record of him ,—This man defended the slave trade I The 
time will come when the record ,—This man opposed the abolition 
of slavery ,—will occasion a great deduction from the public esti¬ 
mate of worth of character. When both these atrocities are 
abolished, and but for the page of history forgotten, that page will 
make a wide difference between those who aided the abolition, 
and those who obstructed it. The one will be ranked amongst the 
Howards that are departed, and the other amongst those who, in 
ignorance or in guilt, have employed their little day in inflicting 
misery upon mankind. 



CHAPTER XIX. 


WAR. 

It is one amongst the numerous moral phenomena of the present 
times, that the inquiry is silently yet not slowly spreading in the 
world —Is War compatible with the Christian religion ? There 
was a period when the question was seldom asked, and when war 
was regarded almost by every man both as inevitable and right. 
That period has certainly passed away; and not only individuals 
but public societies, and societies in distant nations, are urging the 
question upon the attention of mankind. The simple circumstance 
that it is thus urged contains no irrational motive to investiga¬ 
tion : for why should men ask the question if they did not doubt; 
and how, after these long ages of prescription, could they begin to 
doubt, without a reason 1 

It is not unworthy of remark, that whilst disquisitions* are fre¬ 
quently issuing from the press of which the tendency is to show 
that war is not compatible with Christianity, few serious attempts 
are made to show that it is. Whether this results from the 
circumstance that no individual peculiarly is interested in the 
proof—or that there is a secret consciousness that proof cannot be 
brought,—or that those who may be desirous of defending the 
custom, rest in security that the impotence of its assailants will be 
of no avail against a custom so established and so supported,—I 
do not know: yet the fact is remarkable, that scarcely a defender 
is to be found. It cannot be doubted that the question is one 
of the utmost interest and importance to man. Whether the 
custom be defensible or not, every man should inquire into its 
consistency with the Moral Law. If it is defensible he may, by 
inquiry, dismiss the scruples which it is certain subsist in the 
minds of multitudes, and thus exempt himself from the offence of 
participating in that which though pure, he “ esteemeth to be 
unclean.” If it is not defensible, the propriety of investigation is 
increased in a tenfold degree. 



WAR—INTRODUCTION. 


541 


Chap. 19. 


It may be a subject therefore of reasonable regret to the friends 
and the lovers of truth, that the question of the Moral Lawfulness 
of War is not brought fairly before the public. I say fairly; 
because though many of the publications which impugn its law¬ 
fulness advert to the ordinary arguments in its favour, yet it is 
not to be assumed that they give to those arguments all that 
vigour and force which would be imparted by a stated and an able 
advocate. Few books, it is probable, would tend more powerfully 
to promote the discovery and dissemination of truth, than one 
which should frankly and fully and ably advocate, upon sound 
moral principles, the practice of war. The public would then see 
the whole of what can be urged in its favour without being obliged 
to seek for arguments, as they now must, in incidental or imper¬ 
fect or scattered disquisitions: and possessing in a distinct form 
the evidence of both parties, they would be enabled to judge 
justly between them. Perhaps if, invited as the public are to the 
discussion, no man is hereafter willing to adventure in the cause, 
the conclusion will not be unreasonable, that no man is destitute 
of a consciousness that the cause is not a good one. 

Mean-time it is the business of him whose inquiries have con¬ 
ducted him to the conclusion that the cause is not good, to exhibit 
the evidence upon which the conclusion is founded. It happens 
upon the subject of war, more than upon almost any other subject 
of human inquiry, that the individual finds it difficult to con¬ 
template its merits with an uninfluenced mind. He finds it difficult 
to examine it as it would be examined by a philosopher to whom 
the subject was new. He is familiar with its details ; he is habit¬ 
uated to the idea of its miseries ; he has perhaps never doubted, 
because he has never questioned, its rectitude ; nay he has associ¬ 
ated with it ideas not of splendour only but of honour and of merit. 
That such an inquirer will not, without some effort of abstraction, 
examine the question with impartiality and justice, is plain; 
and therefore the first business of him who would satisfy his 
mind respecting the lawfulness of war, is to divest himself of all 
those habits of thought and feeling which have been the result not 
of reflection and judgment but of the ordinary associations of life. 
And perhaps he may derive some assistance in this necessary but 
not easy dismissal of previous opinions, by referring first to some 
of the ordinary Causes and Consequences of War. The reference 
will enable us also more satisfactorily to estimate the moral 



542 CAUSES OF WAR.—WANT OF INQUIRY. Essay 3. 

character of the practice itself; for it is no unimportant auxiliary 
in forming such an estimate of human actions or opinions, to 
know how they have been produced and what are their effects. 


CAUSES OF WAR. 

Of these Causes one undoubtedly consists in the want of inquiry. 
We have been accustomed from earliest life to a familiarity with 
its “ pomp and circumstancesoldiers have passed us as at every 
step, and battles and victories have been the topic of every one 
around us. It therefore becomes familiarized to all our thoughts 
and interwoven with all our associations. We have never in¬ 
quired whether these things should be: the question does not 
even suggest itself. We acquiesce in it, as we acquiesce in the 
rising of the sun, without any other idea than that it is a part of 
the ordinary processes of the world. And how are we to feel 
disapprobation of a system that we do not examine, and of the 
nature of which we do not think! Want of inquiry has been the 
means by which long-continued practices, whatever has been 
their enormity, have obtained the general concurrence of the 
world, and by which they have continued to pollute or degrade 
it, long after the few who inquire into their nature have discovered 
them to be bad. It was by these means that the Slave Trade 
was so long tolerated by this land of humanity. Men did not 
think of its iniquity. We were induced to think, and we soon 
abhorred, and then abolished it. Of the effects of this want of 
inquiry we have indeed frequent examples upon the subject 
before us. Many who have all their lives concluded that war 
is lawful and right, have found, when they began to examine the 
question, that their conclusions were founded upon no evidence; 
—that they had believed in its rectitude not because they had 
possessed themselves of proof, but because they had never in¬ 
quired whether it was capable of proof or not. In the present 
moral state of the world, one of the first concerns of him who 
would discover pure morality should be, to question the purity of 
that which now obtains. 

Another cause of our complacency with war, and therefore 
another cause of war itself, consists in that callousness to human 



543 


Chap. 19. INDIFFERENCE TO HUMAN MISERY. 

misery which the custom induces. They who are shocked at a 
single murder on the highway, hear with indifference of the 
slaughter of a thousand on the field. They whom the idea of 
a single corpse would thrill with terror, contemplate that of heaps 
of human carcasses mangled by human hands, with frigid indif¬ 
ference. If a murder is committed, the narrative is given in the 
public newspaper, with many adjectives of horror, with many 
expressions of commiseration, and many hopes that the perpetrator 
will be detected. In the next paragraph the editor, perhaps, tells 
us that he has hurried a second edition to the press, in order that 
he may be the first to glad the public with the intelligence, that in 
an engagement which has just taken place, eight hundred and fifty 
of the enemy were killed. Now, is not this latter intelligence 
eight hundred and fifty times as deplorable as the first! Yet the 
first is the subject of our sorrow, and this—of our joy! The incon¬ 
sistency and disproportionateness which has been occasioned in 
our sentiments of benevolence, offers a curious moral phenomenon. 1 

The immolations of the Hindoos fill us with compassion or 
horror, and we are zealously labouring to prevent them: the 
sacrifices of life by our own criminal executions are the subject of 
our anxious commiseration, and we are strenuously endeavouring 
to diminish their number. We feel that the life of a Hindoo or 

1 Part of the Declaration and Oath prescribed to be taken by Catholics is this: “ I 
do solemnly declare before God, that I believe that no act in itself unjust, immoral, 
or wicked, can ever be justified or excused by or under pretence or colour that it was 
done either for the good of the church or in obedience to any ecclesiastical power 
whatsoever.” This declaration is required as a solemn act, and is supposed of course 
to involve a great and sacred principle of rectitude. "W e propose the same decla¬ 
ration to be taken by military men, with the alteration of two words. “ I do so¬ 
lemnly declare before God, that I believe that no act in itself unjust, immoral, or 
wicked, can ever be justified or excused by or under pretence or colour that it was 
done either for the good of the state or in obedience to any military power whatso¬ 
ever.” How would this declaration assort with the customary practice of the soldier \ 
Put state for church, and military for ecclesiastical , and then the world thinks that acts 
in themselves most unjust, immoral, and wicked, are not only justified and excused, 
but very meritorious: for in the whole system of warfare justice and morality are 
utterly disregarded. Are those who approve of this Catholic declaration conscious of 
the grossness of their own inconsistency 1 Or will they tell us that the interests of 
the state are so paramount to those of the church, that what would be wickedness in 
the service of one, is virtue in the service of the other 1 The truth we suppose to 
be, that so intense is the power of public opinion, that of the thousands who approve 
the Catholic declarations and the practices of war, there are scarcely tens who even 
perceive their own inconsistency. Mem. in the MSS. 


544 


NATIONAL IRRITABILITY. 


Essay 3 . 


a malefactor is a serious thing, and that nothing but imperious 
necessity should induce us to destroy the one or to permit the 
destruction of the other. Yet what are these sacrifices of life in 
comparison with the sacrifices of war ? In the late campaign in 
Russia, there fell, during one hundred and seventy-three days in 
succession, an average of two thousand nine hundred men per 
day. More than five hundred thousand human beings in less than 
six months! And most of these victims expired with peculiar 
intensity of suffering. We are carrying our benevolence to the 
Indies, but what becomes of it in Russia, or at Leipsic? We 
are labouring to save a few lives from the gallows, but where is 
our solicitude to save them on the field? Life is life wheresoever 
it be sacrificed, and has every-where equal claims to our regard. 
I am not now saying that war is wrong, but that we regard its 
miseries with an indifference with which we regard no others;—- 
that if our sympathy were reasonably excited respecting them, 
we should be powerfully prompted to avoid war ; and that the 
want of this reasonable and virtuous sympathy, is one cause of its 
prevalence in the world. 

And another consists in national irritability. It is assumed 
(not indeed upon the most rational grounds) that the best way of 
supporting the dignity and maintaining the security of a nation is, 
when occasions of disagreement arise, to assume a high attitude 
and a fearless tone. We keep ourselves in a state of irritability 
which is continually alive to occasions of offence ; and he that is 
prepared to be offended readily finds offences. A jealous Sen¬ 
sibility sees insults and injuries where sober eyes see nothing; 
and nations thus surround themselves with a sort of artificial ten- 
tacula, which they throw wide in quest of irritation, and by which 
they are stimulated to revenge, by every touch of accident or in¬ 
advertency. They who are easily offended will also easily offend. 
What is the experience of private life 1 The man who is always 
on the alert to discover trespasses on his honour or his rights, 
never fails to quarrel with his neighbours. Such a person may 
be dreaded as a torpedo. We may fear, but we shall not love 
him; and fear, without love, easily lapses into enmity. There 
are, therefore, many feuds and litigations in the life of such a man, 
that would never have disturbed its quiet, if he had not captiously 
snarled at the trespasses of accident, and savagely retaliated in¬ 
significant injuries. The viper that we chance to molest, we 


NATIONAL IRRITABILITY. 


545 


Chap. 19. 


suffer to live if he continue to be quiet; but if he raise himself 
in menaces of destruction, we knock him on the head. 

It is with nations as with men. If on every offence we fly to 
arms, we shall of necessity provoke exasperation: and if we ex¬ 
asperate a people as petulant as ourselves, we may probably con¬ 
tinue to butcher one another, until we cease only from emptiness 
of exchequers or weariness of slaughter. To- threaten war, is 
therefore often equivalent to beginning it. In the present state of 
men’s principles, it is not probable that one nation will observe 
another, levying men, and building ships, and founding cannon, 
without providing men, and ships, and cannon themselves; and 
when both are thus threatening and defying, what is the hope that 
there will not be a war 1 

If nations fought only when they could not be at peace, there 
would be very little fighting in the world. The wars that are 
waged for “ insults to flags,” and an endless train of similar mo¬ 
tives, are perhaps generally attributable to the irritability of our 
pride. We are at no pains to appear pacific towards the offender: 
our remonstrance is a threat; and the nation, which would give 
satisfaction to an inquiry , will give no other answer to a menace 
than a menace in return. At length we begin to fight, not because 
we are aggrieved, but because we are angry. One example may 
be offered. In 1789 a small Spanish vessel committed some vio¬ 
lence in Nootka Sound, under the pretence that the country be¬ 
longed to Spain. This appears to have been the principal ground 
of offence; and with this both the government and the people of 
England were very angry. The irritability and haughtiness which 
they manifested were unaccountable to the Spaniards, and the 
peremptory tone was imputed by Spain not to the feelings of 
offended dignity and violated justice, but to some lurking enmity 
and some secret designs which we did not chuse to avow.” 1 If 
the tone had been less peremptory and more rational, no such 
suspicion would have been excited, and the hostility which was 
consequent upon the suspicion would of course have been avoided. 
Happily the English were not so passionate, but that before they 
proceeded to fight they negociated, and settled the affair amicably. 
The preparations for this foolish war, cost however three millions 
one hundred and thirty-three thousand pounds ! 

So well indeed is national irritability known to be an efficient 

1 Smollett’s England. 

2 N 



546 


CAUSES OF WAR.—INTEREST. 


Essay 3 . 


cause of war, that they who from any motive wish to promote it, 
endeavour to rouse the temper of a people by stimulating their 
passions,—just as the boys in our streets stimulate two dogs to 
fight. These persons talk of the insults, or the encroachments, or 
the contempts of the destined enemy, with every artifice of aggra¬ 
vation ; they tell ns of foreigners who want to trample upon our 
rights, of rivals who ridicule our power, of foes who will crush, 
and of tyrants who will enslave us. They pursue their object, 
certainly, by efficacious means: they desire a war, and therefore 
irritate our passions; and when men are angry they are easily 
persuaded to fight. 

That this cause of War is morally bad,—that petulance and 
irritability are wholly incompatible with Christianity, these pages 
have repeatedly shown. 

Wars are often promoted from considerations of interest, as well 
as from passion. The love of gain adds its influence to our other 
motives to support them; and without other motives, we know 
that this love is sufficient to give great obliquity to the moral 
judgment, and to tempt us to many crimes. During a war of ten 
years there will always be many whose income depends on its 
continuance; and a countless host of commissaries, and purveyors, 
and agents, and mechanics, commend a war because it fills their 
pockets. And unhappily if money is in prospect, the desolation 
of a kingdom is often of little concern: destruction and slaughter 
are not to be put in competition with a hundred a year. In truth 
it seems sometimes to be the system of the conductors of a war, 
to give to the sources of gain endless ramifications. The more 
there are who profit by it the more numerous are its supporters; 
and thus the projects of a cabinet become identified with the wishes 
of the people, and both are gratified in the prosecution of war. 

A support more systematic and powerful is however given to 
war, because it offers to the higher ranks of society a profession 
which unites gentility with profit, and which without the vulgarity 
of trade, maintains or enriches them. It is of little consequence 
to inquire whether the distinction of vulgarity between the toils 
of war and the toils of commerce be fictitious. In the abstract, it 
is fictitious; but of this species of reputation public opinion holds 
the arbitrium etjus et norma; and public opinion is in favour of 
war. 

The army and the navy therefore afford to the middle and higher 


SECRET MOTIVES OF CABINETS. 


547 


Chap, 19. 


classes a most acceptable profession. The profession of arms is 
like the profession of law or physic,—a regular source of employ¬ 
ment and profit. Boys are educated for the army as they are 
educated for the bar; and parents appear to have no other idea 
than that war is part of the business of the world. Of younger 
sons, whose fathers, in pursuance of the unhappy system of pri¬ 
mogeniture, do not choose to support them at the expense of the 
heir, the army and the navy are the common resource. They 
would not know what to do without them. To many of these the 
news of a peace is a calamity; and though they may not lift their 
voices in favour of new hostilities for the sake of gain, it is unhap¬ 
pily certain that they often secretly desire it. 

It is in this manner that much of the rank, the influence, and 
the wealth of a country become interested in the promotion of 
wars; and when a custom is promoted by wealth, and influence, 
and rank, what is the wonder that it should be continued 1 It is 
said, (if my memory serves me, by Sir Walter Raleigh,) “ he that 
taketh up his rest to live by this profession shall hardly be an 
honest man.” 

By depending upon war for a subsistence, a powerful induce¬ 
ment is given to desire it; and when the question of war is to be 
decided, it is to be feared that the whispers of interest will prevail, 
and that humanity, and religion, and conscience will be sacrificed 
to promote it. 

Of those causes of war which consists in the ambition of princes 
or statesmen or commanders, it is not necessary to speak, because 
no one to whom the world will listen is willing to defend them. 

Statesmen however have, besides ambition, many purposes of 
nice policy which make wars convenient; and when they have 
such purposes, they are sometimes cool speculators in the lives of 
men. They who have much patronage have many dependents, 
and they who have many dependents have much power. By a 
war, thousands become dependent on a minister; and if he be dis¬ 
posed, he can often pursue schemes of guilt, and intrench himself 
in unpunished wickedness, because the war enables him to silence 
the clamour of opposition by an office, and to secure the suffrages 
of venality by a bribe. He has therefore many motives to war, 
—in ambition, that does not refer to conquest; or in fear, that ex¬ 
tends only to his office or his pocket: and fear or ambition, are 
sometimes more interesting considerations than the happiness and 



548 


CAUSES, &c.—GLORY.—HON OUR. Essay 8. 


the lives of men. Cabinets have, in truth, many secret motives 
to wars of which the people know little. They talk in public of 
invasions of right, of breaches of treaty, of the support of honour, 
of the necessity of retaliation, when these motives have no influence 
on their determinations. Some untold purpose of expediency, or 
the private quarrel of a prince, or the pique or anger of a minister, 
are often the real motives to a contest, whilst its promoters are 
loudly talking of the honour or the safety of the country. 

But perhaps the most operative cause of the popularity of war, 
and of the facility with which we engage in it, consists in this; 
that an idea of glory is attached to military exploits, and of honour 
to the military profession. The glories of battle, and of those 
who perish in it, or who return in triumph to their country, are 
favourite topics of declamation with the historian, the biographer, 
and the poet. They have told us a thousand times of dying he¬ 
roes, who “ resign their lives amidst the joys of conquest, and 
filled with their country’s glory, smile in death;” and thus every 
excitement that eloquence and genius can command, is employed 
to arouse that ambition of fame which can be gratified only at the 
expense of blood. 

Into the nature and principles of this fame and glory we have 
already inquired; and in the view alike of virtue and of intellect, 
they are low and bad. 1 “ Glory is the most selfish of all passions 

except love.” 2 —“ I cannot tell how or why the love of glory is a 
less selfish principle than the love of riches.” 3 Philosophy and 
intellect may therefore well despise it, and Christianity silently 
yet emphatically condemns it. “ Christianity,” says bishop Wat¬ 
son, “ quite annihilates the disposition for martial glory.” Ano¬ 
ther testimony, and from an advocate of war, goes further —-No 
part of the heroic character is the subject of the “ commendation, 
or precepts, or example of Christ;” but the character the most 
opposite to the heroic is the subject of them all. 4 

Such is the foundation of the glory which has for so many ages 
deceived and deluded multitudes of mankind ! Upon this foun¬ 
dation a structure has been raised so vast, so brilliant, so attrac¬ 
tive, that the greater portion of mankind are content to gaze in 
admiration without any inquiry into its basis or any solicitude 
for its durability. If, however, it should be, that the gorgeous 

1 See Essay 2, c. 10. 2 West. Rev. No. 1, for 1827. 3 Mem. and Rem. 

of the late Jane Taylor. 4 Paley: Evidences of Christianity, p. 2, c. 2. 


Chap. 19 . 


MILITARY HONOUR—GIBBON. 


549 


temple will be able to stand only till Christian truth and light be¬ 
come predominant, it surely will be wise of those who seek a niche 
in its apartments as their paramount and final good, to pause ere 
they proceed. If they desire a reputation that shall outlive guilt 
and fiction, let them look to the basis of military fame. If this 
fame should one day sink into oblivion and contempt, it will not 
be the first instance in which wide-spread glory has been found 
to be a glittering bubble, that has burst, and been forgotten. Look 
at the days of chivalry. Of the ten thousand Quixotes of the 
middle ages, where is now the honour or the name! yet poets 
once sang their praises, and the chronicler of their achievements 
believed he was recording an everlasting fame. Where are now 
the glories of the tournament? glories 

“ Of which all Europe rang from side to side.” 

Where is the champion whom princesses caressed and nobles 
envied? Where are now the triumphs of Duns .Scotus, and 
where are the folios that perpetuated his fame ? The glories of 
war have indeed outlived these: human passions are less mutable 
than human follies; but I am willing to avow my conviction, that 
these glories are alike destined to sink into forgetfulness; and 
that the time is approaching when the applauses of heroism, and 
the splendours of conquest, will be remembered only as follies and 
iniquities that are past. Let him who seeks for fame, other than 
that which an era of Christian purity will allow, make haste; for 
every hour that he delays its acquisition will shorten its duration. 
This is certain, if there be certainty in the promises of heaven. 

Of this factitious glory as a cause of War, Gibbon speaks in 
the Decline and Fall. “ As long as mankind,” says he, “ shall 
continue to bestow more liberal applause on their destroyers than 
on their benefactors, the thirst of military glory will ever be the 
vice of the most exalted characters.” “ ’Tis strange to imagine,” 
says the Earl of Shaftesbury, that war, which of all things appears 
the most savage, should be the passion of the most heroic spirits.” 
—But he gives us the reason.—“ By a small misguidance of the 
affection, a lover of mankind becomes a ravager; a hero and de¬ 
liverer becomes an oppressor and destroyer.” 1 

These are amongst the great perpetual causes of war. And 
what are they? First, That we do not inquire whether War is 

1 Essay on the Freedom of Wit and Humour. 




550 


CONSEQUENCES OF WAR. 


Essay 3 . 


right or wrong. Secondly, That we are habitually haughty and 
irritable in our intercourse with other nations. Thirdly, That 
War is a source of profit to individuals, and establishes profes¬ 
sions which are very convenient to the middle and higher ranks of 
life. Fourthly, That it gratifies the ambition of public men, and 
serves the purposes of state policy. Fifthly, That notions of glory 
are attached to Warlike affairs; which glory is factitious and 
impure. 

In the view of reason, and especially in the view of religion, 
what is the character of these Causes ? Are they pure 1 Are 
they honourable! Are they when connected with their effects 
compatible with the Moral Law!—Lastly, and especially, Is it 
probable that a system of which these are the great everduring 
Causes, can itself be good or right ? 


CONSEQUENCES OF WAR. 

To expatiate upon the miseries which War brings upon man¬ 
kind, appears a trite and a needless employment. We all know 
that its evils are great and dreadful. Yet the very circumstance 
that the knowledge is familiar, may make it unoperative upon 
our sentiments and our conduct. It is not the intensity of misery, 
it is not the extent of evil alone, which is necessary to animate 
us to that exertion which evil and misery should excite : if it 
were, surely we should be much more averse than we now are to 
contribute, in word or in action, to the promotion of War. 

But there are mischiefs attendant upon the system which are 
not to every man thus familiar, and on which, for that reason, it 
is expedient to remark. In referring especially to some of those 
Moral consequences of war which commonly obtain little of 
our attention, it may be observed, that social and political con¬ 
siderations are necessarily involved in the moral tendency : for the 
happiness of society is always diminished by the diminution 
of morality; and enlightened policy knows that the greatest sup¬ 
port of a state is the virtue of the people. 

And yet the reader should bear in mind—what nothing but the 
frequency of the calamity can make him forget—the intense suf¬ 
ferings and irreparable deprivations which one battle inevitably 
entails upon private life. These are calamities of which the world 



Chap. 19. DESTRUCTION OF HUMAN LIFE.—TAXATION. 551 


thinks little, and which, if it thought of them, it could not 
remove. A father or a husband can seldom be replaced; a void 
is created in the domestic felicity which there is little hope that 
the future will fill. By the slaughter of a war, there are 
thousands who weep in unpitied and unnoticed secrecy, whom the 
world does not see; and thousands who retire, in silence, to 
hopeless poverty, for whom it does not care. To these, the 
conquest of a kingdom is of little importance. The loss of a pro¬ 
tector or a friend is ill repaid by empty glory. An addition 
of territory may add titles to a king, but the brilliancy of a crown 
throws little light upon domestic gloom. It is not my intention to 
insist upon these calamities, intense, and irreparable, and unnum¬ 
bered as they are; but those who begin a war without taking 
them into their estimates of its consequences, must be regarded as, 
at most, half-seeing politicians. The legitimate object of political 
measures is the good of the people ;—and a great sum of good a 
war must produce, if it outbalances even this portion of its 
mischiefs. 

Nor should we be forgetful of that dreadful part of all warfare, 
the destruction of mankind. The frequency with which this de¬ 
struction is represented to our minds has almost extinguished our 
perception of its awfulness and horror. Between the years 1141 
and 1815, an interval of six hundred and seventy years, our 
country has been at war with France alone, two hundred and 
sixty-six years . If to this we add our wars with other countries, 
probably we shall find that one half of the last six or seven cen¬ 
turies has been spent by this country in war! A dreadful picture 
of human violence! How many of our fellow men, of our fellow 
Christians, have these centuries of slaughter cut off! What is 
the sum total of the misery of their deaths! 1 

When political writers expatiate upon the extent and the evils 
of taxation, they do not sufficiently bear in mind the reflection 
that almost all our taxation is the effect of war. A man declaims 
upon national debts. He ought to declaim upon the parent 
of those debts. Do we reflect that if heavy taxation entails evils 
and misery upon the community, that misery and those evils are 
inflicted upon us by warl The amount of supplies in Queen 

1 “ Since the peace of Amiens more than four millions of human beings have been 
sacrificed to the personal ambition of Napoleon Buonaparte.” Quarterly Review, 
25 Art. 1, 1825. 


552 


CONSEQUENCES, &c.—ERASMUS. Essay 3. 

Anne’s reign was about Seventy millions; 1 and of this about 
Sixty-six millions 2 was expended in war. Where is our equiva¬ 
lent good ? 

Such considerations ought, undoubtedly, to influence the conduct 
of public men in their disagreements with other states, even 
if higher considerations do not influence it. They ought to form 
part of the calculations of the evil of hostility. I believe that a 
greater mass of human suffering and loss of human enjoyment are 
occasioned by the pecuniary distresses of a war, than any 
ordinary advantages of a war compensate. But this consideration 
seems too remote to obtain our notice. Anger at offence or hope 
of triumph, overpowers the sober calculations of reason, and 
outbalances the weight of after and long-continued calamities. 
The only question appears to be, whether taxes enough for a war 
can be raised, and whether a people will be willing to pay them. 
But the great question ought to be, (setting questions of Christ¬ 
ianity aside,) whether the nation will gain as much by the war as 
they will lose by taxation and its other calamities. 

If the happiness of the people were, what it ought to be, 
the primary and the ultimate object of national measures, I think 
that the policy which pursued this object, would often find that 
even the pecuniary distresses resulting from a war make a greater 
deduction from the quantum of felicity, than those evils which the 
war may have been designed to avoid. 

“ But war does more harm to the morals of men than even 
to their property and persons.” 3 If, indeed, it depraves our 
morals more than it injures our persons and deducts from our pro¬ 
perty, how enormous must its mischiefs be! 

I do not know whether the greater sum of moral evil resulting 
from war, is suffered by those who are immediately engaged in it, 
or by the public. The mischief is most extensive upon the com¬ 
munity, but upon the profession it is most intense. 

Rara fides pietasque viris qui eastra sequuntur. 

Lucan. 

No one pretends to applaud the morals of an army, and for its 
religion, few think of it at all. The fact is too notorious to be 

1 The sum was £69,815,457. 

2 The sum was £65,853,799. “ The nine years’ war of 1739 cost this nation 

upwards of sixty-four millions without gaining any object.” Chalmer’s Estimate of 
the Strength of Great Britain. 

3 Erasmus. 


Chap. 19. HALL—FAMILIARITY WITH PLUNDER, &c. 553 

insisted upon, that thousands who had filled their stations in life 
with propriety, and been virtuous from principle, have lost, by a 
military life, both the practice and the regard of morality; and 
when they have become habituated to the vices of war, have 
laughed at their honest and plodding brethren who are still spirit¬ 
less enough for virtue or stupid enough for piety. 

Does any man ask, What occasions depravity in military life 1 
I answer in the words of Robert Hall, 1 “ War reverses, with 
respect to its objects, all the rules of morality. It is nothing less 
than a temporary repeal of all the principles of virtue. It is 
a system out of which almost all the virtues are excluded, and in 
which nearly all the vices are incorporated.”—And it requires no 
sagacity to discover, that those who are engaged in a practice 
which reverses all the rules of morality,—which repeals all the 
principles of virtue, and in which nearly all the vices are in¬ 
corporated, cannot, without the intervention of a miracle, retain 
their minds and morals undepraved. 

Look for illustration to the familiarity with the plunder of pro¬ 
perty and the slaughter of mankind which war induces. He who 
plunders the citizen of another nation without remorse or reflection, 
and bears away the spoil with triumph, will inevitably lose some¬ 
thing of his principles of probity. 2 * He who is familiar with 
slaughter, who has himself often perpetrated it, and who exults in 
the perpetration, will not retain undepraved the principles of 
virtue. His moral feelings are blunted; his moral vision is ob¬ 
scured ; his principles are shaken; an inroad is made upon their 
integrity, and it is an inroad that makes after inroads the more 
easy. Mankind do not generally resist the influence of habit. If 
we rob and shoot those who are “enemies” to-day, we are in 
some degree prepared to shoot and rob those who are not enemies 
to-morrow. Law may indeed still restrain us from violence ; but 
the power and efficiency of Principle is diminished: and this 
alienation of the mind from the practice, the love, and the 
perception of Christian purity, therefore, of necessity extends its 
influence to the other circumstances of life. The whole evil 
is imputable to war; and we say that this evil forms a powerful 

1 Sermon, 1822. 3 See Smollett’s England, vol. 4, p. 376. 

* “ This terrible truth, which I cannot help repeating, must be acknowledged:— 
indifference and selfishness are the predominant feelings in an army.” Miot’s 
Memoires de L’exp6dition en Egypte, &c. Mem. in the MSS. 


354 CONSEQUENCES, &c.—IMPLICIT SUBMISSION. Essay 3. 


evidence against it, whether we direct that evidence to the 
abstract question of its lawfulness, or to the practical question of 
its expediency. That can scarcely be lawful which necessarily 
occasions such wide-spread immorality. That can scarcely be 
expedient, which is so pernicious to virtue, and therefore to the 
state. 

The economy of war requires of every soldier an implicit sub¬ 
mission to his superior ; and this submission is required of every 
gradation of rank to that above it. " I swear to obey the orders 
of the officers who are set over me : so help me God.” This 
system may be necessary to hostile operations, but I think it 
is unquestionably adverse to intellectual and moral excellence. 

The very nature of unconditional obedience implies the re¬ 
linquishment of the use of the reasoning powers. Little more is 
required of the soldier than that he be obedient and brave. His 
obedience is that of an animal, which is moved by a goad or a bit, 
without judgment of his own; and his bravery is that of a mastiff 
that fights whatever mastiff others put before him. 1 It is obvious 
that in such agency the intellect and the understanding have little 
part. Now I think that this is important. He who, with what¬ 
ever motive, resigns the direction of his conduct implicitly to 
another, surely cannot retain that erectness and independence 
of mind, that manly consciousness of mental freedom, which is 
one of the highest privileges of our nature. A British Captain 
declares that “ the tendency of strict discipline, such as prevails on 
board ships of war, where almost every act of a man’s life is 
regulated by the orders of his superiors, is to weaken the faculty 
of independent thought.” 2 Thus the Rational Being becomes 
reduced in the intellectual scale: an encroachment is made upon 
the integrity of its independence. God has given us, individually, 
capacities for the regulation of our individual conduct. To resign 
its direction, therefore, to the absolute disposal of another, appears 
to be an unmanly and unjustifiable relinquishment of the privileges 
which he has granted to us. And the effect is obviously bad; for 
although no character will apply universally to any large class of 
men, and although the intellectual character of the military pro- 

1 By one article of the Constitutional Code even of republican France, “the army 
were expressly prohibited from deliberating on any subject whatever.” 

2 Captain Basil Hall: Voyage to Loo Choo : c. 2. We make no distinction between 
the military and naval professions, and employ one word to indicate both. 


Chap. 19. RESIGNATION OF MORAL AGENCY. 


555 


fession does not result only from this unhappy subjection, yet 
it will not be disputed, that the honourable exercise of intellect 
amongst that profession is not relatively great. It is not from them 
that we expect, because it is not from them that we generally find, 
those vigorous exertions of intellect which dignify our nature and 
which extend the boundaries of human knowledge. 

But the intellectual effects of military subjection form but a 
small portion of its evils. The great mischief is, that it requires 
the relinquishment of our moral agency ; that it requires us to do 
what is opposed to our consciences and what we know to be wrong. 
A soldier must obey, how criminal soever the command, and how 
criminal soever he knows it to be. It is certain, that of those who 
compose armies, many commit actions which they believe to 
be wicked, and which they would not commit but for the ob¬ 
ligations of a military life. Although a soldier determinately 
believes that the war is unjust, although he is convinced that his 
particular part of the service is atrociously criminal, still he must 
proceed,—he must prosecute the purposes of injustice or robbery, 
he must participate in the guilt and be himself a robber. 

To what a situation is a rational and responsible being reduced, 
who commits actions, good or bad, at the word of another ? I can 
conceive no greater degradation. It is the lowest, the final 
abjectness of the moral nature. It is this if we abate the glitter 
of war, and if we add this glitter it is nothing more. 

Such a resignation of our moral agency is not contended for or 
tolerated in any one other circumstance of human life. War 
stands upon this pinnacle of depravity alone. She, only, in the 
supremacy of crime, has told us that she has abolished even the 
obligation to be virtuous. 

Some writers who have perceived the monstrousness of this 
system, have told us that a soldier should assure himself, before 
he engages in a war, that it is a lawful and just one; and they 
acknowledge that if he does not feel this assurance, he is a “ mur¬ 
derer.” But how is he to know that the war is just? It is fre¬ 
quently difficult for the people distinctly to discover what the 
objects of a war are. And if the soldier knew that it was just in 
its commencement, how is he to know that it will continue just in 
its prosecution] Every war is, in some parts of its course, wicked 
and unjust; and who can tell what that course will be ? You say, 
— When he discovers any injustice or wickedness, let him with- 



EFFECTS OF WAR.—BONDAGE 


556 


Essay 3 . 


draw : we answer, He cannot ; and the truth is, that there is no 
way of avoiding the evil, but by avoiding the army. 

It is an inquiry of much interest, under what circumstances of 
responsibility a man supposes himself to be placed, who thus 
abandons and violates his own sense of rectitude and of his duties. 
Either he is responsible for his actions, or he is not ; and the 
question is a serious one to determine. 1 Christianity has certainly 
never stated any cases in which personal responsibility ceases. 
If she admits such cases, she has at least not told us so; but she 
has told us, explicitly and repeatedly, that she does require indi¬ 
vidual obedience and impose individual responsibility. She has 
made no exceptions to the imperativeness of her obligations, whe¬ 
ther we are required by others to neglect them or not; and I can 
discover in her sanctions no reason to suppose, that in her final 
adjudications she admits the plea, that another required us to do 
that which she required us to forbear. —But it may be feared, it 
may be believed, that how little soever religion will abate of the 
responsibility of those who obey, she will impose not a little upon 
those who command. They, at least, are answerable for the enor¬ 
mities of war: unless, indeed, any one shall tell me that respon¬ 
sibility attaches nowhere; that that which would be wickedness 
in another man, is innocence in a soldier; and that heaven has 
granted to the directors of war a privileged immunity, by virtue 
of which crime incurs no guilt and receives no punishment. 

And here it is fitting to observe, that the obedience to arbitrary 
power which war exacts, possesses more of the character of ser¬ 
vility and even of slavery, than we are accustomed to suppose. 
I will acknowledge that when I see a company of men in a stated 
dress, and of a stated colour, ranged, rank and file, in the attitude 
of obedience, turning or walking at the word of another, now 
changing the position of a limb and now altering the angle of a 
foot, I feel that there is something in the system that is wrong,— 
something incongruous with the proper dignity, with the intellec¬ 
tual station of man. I do not know whether I shall be charged 

1 Vattel indeed tells us that soldiers ought to “ submit their judgment.” “ What” 
says he “would he the consequence, if at every step of the Sovereign the subjects 
were at liberty to weigh the justice of his reasons, and refuse to march to a war which 
to them might appear unjust 1” Law of Nat. h. 3, c. 11, sec. 187. Gisborne holds 
very different language. “ It is,” he says, “ at all times the duty of an Englishman 
steadfastly to decline obeying any orders of his superiors, which his conscience should 
tell him were in any degree impious or unjust.” Duties of Men. 


Chap. 19. AND DEGRADATION—LOAN OF ARMIES. 557 

with indulging in idle sentiment or idler affectation. If I hold 
unusual language upon the subject, let it be remembered that the 
subject is itself unusual. I will retract my affectation and senti¬ 
ment, if the reader will show me any case in life parallel to that 
to which I have applied it. 

No one questions whether military power he arbitrary. And 
what are the customary feelings of mankind with respect to a 
subjection to arbitrary power] How do we feel and think, when 
we hear of a person who is obliged to do whatever other men 
command, and who, the moment he refuses, is punished for attempt¬ 
ing to be free ] If a man orders his servant to do a given action, 
he is at liberty, if he think the action improper, or if, from any 
other cause, he choose not to do it, to refuse his obedience. Far 
other is the nature of military subjection. The soldier is compelled 
to obey, whatever be his inclination or his will. It matters not 
whether he have entered the service voluntarily or involuntarily. 
Being in it, he has but one alternative,—submission to arbitrary 
power, or punishment—the punishment of death perhaps—for 
refusing to submit. Let the reader imagine to himself any other 
cause or purpose for which freemen shall be subjected to such a 
condition, and he will then see that condition in its proper light. 
The influence of habit and the gloss of public opinion make situa¬ 
tions that would otherwise be loathsome and revolting, not only 
tolerable but pleasurable. Take away this influence and this 
gloss from the situation of a soldier, and what should we call it ] 
We should call it a state of degradation and of bondage. But 
habit and public opinion, although they may influence notions, 
cannot alter things. It is a state intellectually, morally, and poli¬ 
tically, of bondage and degradation. 

But the reader will say that this submission to arbitrary power 
is necessary to the prosecution of war. I know it ; and that is 
the very point for observation. It is because it is necessary to 
war that it is noticed here: for a brief but clear argument results : 
—That custom to which such a state of mankind is necessary 
must inevitably be bad;—it must inevitably be adverse to recti¬ 
tude and to Christianity. So deplorable is the bondage which 
war produces, that we often hear, during a war, of subsidies from 
one nation to another, for the loan, or rather for the purchase of 
an army.—To borrow ten thousand men who know nothing of our 
quarrel and care nothing for it, to help us to slaughter their fel- 


558 EFFECTS ON THE COMMUNITY. Essay 3. 

lows! To pay for their help in guineas to their sovereign! Well 
has it been exclaimed, 

War is a game, that, were their subjects wise, 

Kings would not play at. 

A prince sells his subjects as a farmer sells his cattle; and sends 
them to destroy a people, whom, if they had been higher bidders, 
he would perhaps have sent them to defend. The historian has 
to record such miserable facts, as that a potentate’s troops were,' 
during one war, “ hired to the king of Great Britain and his ene¬ 
mies alternately, as the scale of convenience happened to prepon¬ 
derate i” 1 That a large number of persons with the feelings and 
reason of men, should coolly listen to the bargain of their sale, 
should compute the guineas that will pay for their blood, and 
should then quietly be led to a place where they are to kill people 
towards whom they have no animosity, is simply wonderful. To 
what has inveteracy of habit reconciled mankind! I have no 
capacity of supposing a case of slavery, if slavery be denied in 
this. Men have been sold in another continent, and philanthropy 
has been shocked and aroused to interference; yet these men were 
sold, not to be slaughtered but to work: but of the purchases and 
sales of the world’s political slave dealers, what does philanthropy 
think or care! There is no reason to doubt that upon other sub¬ 
jects of horror,, similar familiarity of habit would produce similar 
effects; or that he who heedlessly contemplates the purchase of 
an army, wants nothing but this familiarity to make him heed¬ 
lessly look on at the commission of parricide. 

Yet I do not know whether, in its effects on the military cha¬ 
racter, the greatest moral evil of war is to be sought. Upon the 
community its effects are indeed less apparent, because they who 
are the secondary subjects of the immoral influence, are less in¬ 
tensely affected by it than the immediate agents of its diffusion. 
But whatever is deficient in the degree of evil, is probably more 
than compensated by its extent. The influence is like that of a 
continual and noxious vapour : we neither regard nor perceive it, 
but it secretly undermines the moral health. 

Every one knows that vice is contagious. The depravity of 
one man has always a tendency to deprave his neighbours; and 
it therefore requires no unusual acuteness to discover, that the 
1 Smollett’s England: v. 4, p. 330. 


Chap. 19 . 


ANIMOSITY—RETALIATION. 


559 


prodigious mass of immorality and crime which is accumulated 
by a war, must have a powerful effect in “ demoralizing” the 
public. But there is one circumstance connected with the injuri¬ 
ous influence of war, which makes it peculiarly operative and 
malignant. It is, that we do not hate or fear the influence, and 
do not fortify ourselves against it. Other vicious influences insi¬ 
nuate themselves into our minds by stealth; but this we receive 
with open embrace. Glory, and patriotism, and bravery, and 
conquest, are bright and glittering things. Who when he is look¬ 
ing, delighted, upon these things, is armed against the mischiefs 
which they veil ? 

The evil Is in its own nature of almost universal operation. 
During a war, a whole people become familiarized with the utmost 
excesses of enormity,—with the utmost intensity of human wick¬ 
edness,—and they rejoice and exult in them; so that there is pro¬ 
bably not an individual in a hundred who does not lose something 
of his Christian principles by a ten years’ war. 

“ It is in my mind,” said Fox “ no small misfortune to live at a 
period when scenes of horror and blood are frequent.”—“ One 
of the most evil consequences of war is, that it tends to render 
the hearts of mankind callous to the feelings and sentiments of 
humanity/’ 1 

Those who know what the Moral Law of God is, and who feel 
an interest in the virtue and the happiness of the world, will not 
regard the animosity of Party and the restlessness of resentment 
which are produced by a war, as trifling evils. If any thing be 
opposite to Christianity it is retaliation and revenge. In the ob¬ 
ligation to restrain these dispositions, much of the characteristic 
placability of Christianity consists. The very essence and spirit 
of our religion are abhorrent from resentment.—The very essence 
and spirit of war are promotive of resentment; and what then 
must be their mutual adverseness 1 That war excites these pas¬ 
sions, needs not to be proved. When a war is in contemplation, 
or when it has been begun, what are the endeavours of its pro¬ 
moters 1 They animate us by every artifice of excitement to 
hatred and animosity. Pamphlets, Placards, Newspapers, Cari¬ 
catures,—every agent is in requisition to irritate us into malignity. 
Nay, dreadful as it is, the pulpit resounds with declamations to 
stimulate our too sluggish resentment, and to invite us to slaughter. 

1 Fell’s Life of C. J. Fox. 


560 EFFECTS ON THE COMMUNITY. Essay 3. 

—And thus the most unchristianlike of all our passions, the pas¬ 
sion which it is most the object of our religion to repress, is ex¬ 
cited and fostered. Christianity cannot be flourishing under 
circumstances like these. The more effectually we are' animated 
to war, the more nearly we extinguish the dispositions of our 
religion. War and Christianity are like the opposite ends of a 
balance, of which one is depressed by the elevation of the other. 

These are the consequences which make War dreadful to a state. 
Slaughter and devastation are sufficiently terrible, but their colla¬ 
teral evils are their greatest. It is the immoral feeling that war 
diffuses,—it is the depravation of Principle , which forms the mass 
of its mischief. 

To attempt to pursue the consequences of war through all their 
ramifications of evil were, however, both endless and vain. It is 
a moral gangrene which diffuses its humours through the whole 
political and social system. To expose its mischief, is to exhibit 
all evil; for there is no evil which it does not occasion, and it has 
much that is peculiar to itself. 

That, together with its multiplied evils, war produces some 
good, I have no wish to deny. I know that it sometimes elicits 
valuable qualities which had otherwise been concealed, and that 
it often produces collateral and adventitious, and sometimes imme¬ 
diate advantages. If all this could be denied, it would be need¬ 
less to deny it, for it is of no consequence to the question whether 
it be proved. That any wide-extended system should not produce 
some benefits, can never happen. In such a system, it were an 
unheard-of purity of evil, which was evil without any mixture of 
good.—But, to compare the ascertained advantages of war with 
its ascertained mischiefs, and to maintain a question as to the 
preponderance of the balance, implies, not ignorance but disinge¬ 
nuousness, not incapacity to decide, but a voluntary concealment 
of truth. 

And why do we insist upon these consequences of War 1 —Be¬ 
cause the review prepares the reader for a more accurate judgment 
respecting its lawfulness. Because it reminds him what War is, 
and because, knowing and remembering what it is, he will be the 
better able to compare it with the Standard of Rectitude. 



Chap. 19 . 


WAR.—INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 


561 


LAWFULNESS OF WAR. 

I would recommend to him who would estimate the moral cha¬ 
racter of war, to endeavour to forget that he has ever presented 
to his mind the idea of a battle, and to endeavour to contemplate 
it with those emotions which it would excite in the mind of 
a being who had never before heard of human slaughter. The 
prevailing emotions of such a being would be, astonishment and 
horror. If he were shocked by the horribleness of the scene, he 
would be amazed at its absurdity. — That a large number of 
persons should assemble by agreement and deliberately kill one 
another, appears to the understanding a proceeding so prepos¬ 
terous, so montrous, that I think a being such as I have-supposed 
would inevitably conclude that they were mad. Nor is it likely, if 
it were attempted to explain to him some motives to such conduct, 
that he would be able to comprehend how any possible cir¬ 
cumstances could make it reasonable. The ferocity and prodigious 
folly of the act, would in his estimation outbalance the weight of 
every conceivable motive, and he would turn unsatisfied away, 

“ Astonished at the madness of mankind.” 

There is an advantage in making suppositions such as these; 
because, when the mind has been familiarized to a practice 
however monstrous or inhuman, it loses some of its sagacity 
of moral perception: the practice is perhaps veiled in glittering 
fictions, or the mind is become callous to its enormities. But 
if the subject is, by some circumstance, presented to the mind 
unconnected with any of its previous associations, we see it with 
a new judgment and new feelings ; and wonder, perhaps, that we 
have not felt so or thought so, before. And such occasions it 
is the part of a wise man to seek; since, if they never happen to 
us, it will often be difficult for us accurately to estimate the qua¬ 
lities of human actions, or to determine whether we approve them 
from a decision of our judgment, or whether we yield to them only 
the acquiescence of habit. 

It may properly be a subject of wonder, that the arguments 
which are brought to justify a custom such as war receive so little 
investigation. It must be a studious ingenuity of mischief which 
could devise a practice more calamitous or horrible; and yet 


o 



562 OF APPEALING TO ANTIQUITY.—CLARENDON. Essay 3. 

it is a practice of which it rarely occurs to us to inquire into 
the necessity, or to ask whether it cannot be, or ought not to 
be avoided. In one truth, however, all will acquiesce,— that the 
arguments in favour of such a practice should be unanswerably 
strong. 

Let it not be said that the experience and the practice of other 
ages have superseded the necessity of inquiry in our own; that 
there can be no reason to question the lawfulness of that which 
has been sanctioned by forty centuries ; or that he w T ho presumes 
to question it, is amusing himself with schemes of visionary 
philanthropy. “ There is not, it may be,” says Lord Clarendon, 
“ a greater obstruction to the investigation of truth or the im¬ 
provement of knowledge, than the too frequent appeal, and the too 
supine resignation of our understanding, to antiquity.” 1 Who¬ 
soever proposes an alteration of existing institutions, will meet, 
from some men, with a sort of instinctive opposition, which 
appears to be influenced by no process of reasoning, by no con¬ 
siderations of propriety or principles of rectitude, which defends 
the existing system because it exists, and which w T ould have’ 
equally defended its opposite if that had been the oldest. “ Nor 
is it out of modesty that we have this resignation, or that we do, 
in truth, think those who have gone before us to be wiser than 
ourselves: we are as proud and as peevish as any of our proge¬ 
nitors ; but it is out of laziness ; we will rather take their words, 
than take the pains to examine the reason they governed them¬ 
selves by.” 2 To those who urge objections from the authority of 
ages, it is, indeed, a sufficient answer to say, that they apply 
to every long-continued custom. Slave dealers urged them against 
the friends of the abolition; papists urged them against WicklifFe 
and Luther; and the Athenians probably thought it a good 
objection to an apostle, that “he seemed to be a setter forth 
of “ strange gods.” 

It is some satisfaction to be able to give, on a question of this 
nature, the testimony of some great minds against the lawfulness 
of war, opposed, as these testimonies are, to the general prejudice 
and the general practice of The world. It has been observed 
by Beccaria, that “ it is the fate of great truths, to glow only like 
a flash of lightning amidst the dark clouds in which error has en¬ 
veloped the universe and if our testimonies are few or transient, 

1 Lord Clarendon’s Essays. 2 Id. 


Chap. 19 . ERASMUS.—WATSON.—SOUTHEY. 


563 


it matters not, so that their light be the light of truth. There are, 
indeed, many, who in describing the horrible particulars of a siege 
or a battle, indulge in some declamation on the horrors of war, 
such as has been often repeated, and often applauded, and as often 
forgotten. But such declamations are of little value and of little 
effect ; he who reads the next paragraph finds, probably, that he 
is invited to follow the path to glory and to victory ;—to share the 
hero's danger and partake the hero's praise ; and he soon discovers 
that the moralizing parts of his author are the impulse of feelings 
rather than of principles, and thinks that though it may be very 
well to write, yet it is better to forget them. 

There are, however, testimonies, delivered in the calm of 
reflection, by acute and enlightened men, which may reasonably 
be allowed at least so much weight as to free the present inquiry 
from the charge of being wild or visionary. Christianity indeed 
needs no such auxiliaries ; but if they induce an examination of 
her duties, a wise man will not wish them to be disregarded. 

“They who defend war,” says Erasmus, “must defend the 
dispositions which lead to war; and these dispositions are ab¬ 
solutely forbidden by the gospel. — Since the time that Jesus 
Christ said, Put up thy sword into its scabbard, Christians ought 
not to go to war. — Christ suffered Peter to fall into an error in this 
matter, on purpose that, when He had put up Peter’s sword, 
it might remain no longer a doubt that war was prohibited, which, 
before that order, had been considered as allowable.” — “Wick- 
liffe seems to have thought it was wrong to take away the life of 
man on any account, and that war was utterly unlawful.” 1 — 
“ I am persuaded,” says the bishop of Landaff, “ that when 
the spirit of Christianity shall exert its proper influence war will 
cease throughout the whole Christian world ." 2 “War,” says the 
same acute prelate, “ has practices and principles peculiar to itself, 
which but ill quadrate with the rule of moral rectitude, and are 
quite abhorrent from the benignity of Christianity :” 3 ,A living 
writer of eminence bears this remarkable testimony : — “ There is 
but one community of Christians in the world, and that unhappily 
of all communities one of the smallest, enlightened enough to 
understand the prohibition of war by our Divine Master, in its 
plain, literal, and undeniable sense : and conscientious enough 
to obey it, subduing the very instinct of nature to obedience.” 4 

1 Priestley. 2 Life of Bishop Watson. 3 Id. 

4 Southey’s History of Brazil. 



564 


KNOX.—THE CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES. Essay 3, 


Dr. Vicessimus Knox speaks in language equally specific:— 
“ Morality and religion forbid war, in its motives, conduct, and 
consequences.’ n 

Those who have attended to the mode in which the Moral Law 
is instituted in the expressions of the Will of God, will have no 
difficulty in supposing that it contains no specific prohibition of 
war. Accordingly if we be asked for such a prohibition, in the 
manner in which Thou shalt not kill is directed to murder, we 
willingly answer that no such prohibition exists; — and it is 
not necessary to the argument. Even those who would require 
such a prohibition, are themselves satisfied respecting the obliga¬ 
tion of many negative duties on which there has been no specific 
decision in the New Testament. They believe that suicide is not 
lawful: yet Christianity never forbad it. It can be shown, indeed, 
by implication and inference, that suicide could not have been 
allowed, and with this they are satisfied. Yet there is, probably, 
in the Christian Scriptures, not a twentieth part of as much indirect 
evidence against the lawfulness of suicide, as there is against the 
lawfulness of war. To those who require such a command as 
Thou shalt not engage in war , it is therefore sufficient to reply, 
that they require that, which, upon this and upon many other 
subjects, Christianity has not seen fit to give. 

We have had many occasions to illustrate, in the course of 
these disquisitions, the characteristic nature of the Moral Law as 
a law of Benevolence. This benevolence, this good-will and 
kind affections towards one another, is placed at the basis of 
practical morality,—it is “the fulfilling of the law,”—it is the test 
of the validity of our pretensions to the Christian character. We 
have had occasion too to observe, that this law of Benevolence is 
universally applicable to public affairs as well as to private, to the 
intercourse of nations as well as of men. Let us refer then 
to some of those requisitions of this law which appear peculiarly 
to respect the question of the moral character of war. 

Have peace one with another.—By this shall all men know that 
ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another. 

Walk with all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, for¬ 
bearing one another in love. 

Be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another ; love 

1 Essays—The Paterines or Gazari of Italy in the 11th, 12th, and 13th centuries, 
“ held hat it was not lawful to hear arms or to kill mankind.” 


Chap. 19. CHRISTIANITY CONDEMNS THOUGHTS, &c. 565 


as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous: not rendering evil for evil, or 
railing for railing. 

Be at peace among yourselves. See that none render evil for 
evil unto any man.—God hath called us to peace. 

Follow after love, patience, meekness.—Be gentle, showing all 
meekness unto all men.—Live in peace. 

Lay aside all malice.—Put off' anger, wrath, malice.—Lei all 
bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, 
be put away from you, with all malice. 

Avenge not yourselves.—If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if 
he thirst, give him drink.-—Recompense to no man evil for evil.— 
Overcome evil with good. 

Now we ask of any man who looks over these passages, What 
evidence do they convey respecting the lawfulness of war ? Could 
any approval or allowance of it have been subjoined to these 
instructions, without obvious and most gross inconsistency ?—-But 
if war is obviously and most grossly inconsistent with the general 
character of Christianity; if war could not have been permitted 
by its teachers without an egregious violation of their own pre¬ 
cepts, we think that the evidence of its unlawfulness, arising from 
this general character alone, is as clear, as absolute, and as 
exclusive, as could have been contained in any form of prohibition 
whatever. 

But it is not from general principles alone that the law of 
Christianity respecting war may be deduced.—“ Ye have heard 
that it hath been said, An “ eye for an eye, and a tooth for a 
tooth: but / say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever 
shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”— 
“ Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy 
neighbour, and hate thine enemy : but I say unto you, Love your 
enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute 
you ; for if ye love them which love you, what reward have yeV’ 1 

Of the precepts from the Mount the most obvious characteristic 
is greater moral excellence and superior purity. They are directed, 
not so immediately to the external regulation of the conduct, as to 
the restraint and purification of the affections. In another precept 
it is not enough that an unlawful passion be just so far restrained 
as to produce no open immorality,—the passion itself is forbidden. 

1 Matt. v. 38, &c. 




566 CHRISTIANITY CONDEMNS THOUGHTS, &c. Essay 3. 

The tendency of the discourse is to attach guilt not to action only 
but also to thought. It has been said, “ Thou shalt not kill; 
and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment; but 
I say unto you, “ that whosoever is angry with his brother 
without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment.” 1 Our Law¬ 
giver attaches guilt to some of the violent feelings, such as re¬ 
sentment, hatred, revenge; and by doing this, we contend that he 
attaches guilt to war. War cannot be carried on without those 
passions which he prohibits. Our argument therefore is syllo- 
gistical: — War cannot be allowed, if that which is necessary to 
war is prohibited. This indeed is precisely the argument of 
Erasmus: — “ They who defend war must defend the dispo¬ 
sitions which lead to war; and these dispositions are absolutely 
forbidden .” 

Whatever might have been allowed under the Mosaic institu¬ 
tion as to retaliation or resentment, Christianity says, “ If ye 
love them only which love you what reward have ye ] — Love 
your enemies Now wdiat sort of love does that man bear 
towards his enemy, who runs him through with a bayonet] We 
repeat, that the distinguishing duties of Christianity must be 
sacrificed when war is carried on. The question is between the 
abandonment of these duties and the abandonment of war, for 
both cannot be retained. 2 

It is however objected, that the prohibitions “ Resist not evil,” 
&c. are figurative; and that they do not mean that no injury is to 
be punished, and no outrage to be repelled. It has been asked, 
with complacent exultation, What would these advocates of peace 
say to him who struck them on the right cheek] Would they 
turn to him the other ] What would these patient moralists say 
to him who robbed them of a coat] Would they give a cloak 
also] What would these philanthropists say to him who asked 
them to lend a hundred pounds] Would they not turn away] 
This is argumentum ad hominem; one example amongst the 

1 Matt. v. 21, 22. 

2 Y et the retention of both has been, unhappily enough, attempted. In a late 
publication, of which a part is devoted to the defence of war, the author gravely recom¬ 
mends soldiers, whilst shooting and stabbing their enemies, to maintain towards them 
a feeling of “ good-will!” —Tracts and Essays by the late William Hey, Esq. F. R. S. 
And Gisborne, in his Duties of Men, holds similar language. He advises the soldier, 
“ never to forget the common ties of human nature by which he is inseparably united 
to his enemy!” 


Chap. 19 . 


SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 


567 


many, of that low and dishonest mode of intellectual warfare, which 
consists in exciting the feelings instead of convincing the under¬ 
standing. It is, however, some satisfaction, that the motive to 
the adoption of this mode of warfare is itself an indication of a 
bad cause; for what honest reasoner would produce only a laugh, 
if he were able to produce conviction! 

We willingly grant that not all the precepts from the Mount 
were designed to be literally obeyed in the intercourse of life. 
But what then! To show that their meaning is not literal, is not 
to show that they do not forbid war. We ask in our turn, What 
is the meaning of the precepts 1 What is the meaning of “ Re¬ 
sist not evil!” Does it mean to allow bombardment,—devas¬ 
tation,—slaughter! If it does not mean to allow all this, it does 
not mean to allow war. What again do the objectors say is the 
meaning of, “ Love your enemies,” or of, “ do good to them that 
hate you!” Does it mean, “ ruin their commerce,”—“ sink their 
fleets,”—“plunder their cities,”—“ shoot through their hearts!” 
If the precept does not mean to allow all this, it does not mean 
to allow war. It is therefore not at all necessary here to discuss 
the precise signification of some of the precepts from the Mount, 
or to define what limits Christianity may admit in their appli¬ 
cation, since, whatever exceptions she may allow, it is manifest 
what she does not allow i 1 for if we give to our objectors whatever 
license of interpretation they may desire, they cannot, without 
virtually rejecting the precepts, so interpret them as to make 
them allow war. 

Of the injunctions that are contrasted with, “ eye for eye, and 
tooth for tooth,” the entire scope and purpose is the suppression 
of the violent passions, and the inculcation of forbearance and 
forgiveness and benevolence and love. They forbid, not speci¬ 
fically the act, but the spirit of war; and this method of prohibi¬ 
tion Christ ordinarily employed. He did not often condemn the 
individual doctrines or customs of the age, however false or 
however vicious; but he condemned the passions by which only 
vice could exist, and inculcated the truth which dismissed every 

1 It is manifest, from the New Testament, that we are not required to give “ a 
cloak,” in every case , to him who robs us of “ a coat;” but I think it is equally mani¬ 
fest that we are required to give it not the less, because he has robbed us: the 
circumstance of his having robbed us, does not entail an obligation to give; but it 
also does not impart a permission to withhold. If the necessities of the plunderer 
require relief, it is the business of the plundered to relieve them. 


568 


SUBJECTS OF CHRIST’S BENEDICTION. Essay 3. 


error. And this method was undoubtedly wise . In the gradual 
alterations of human wickedness, many new species of profligacy 
might arise which the world had not yet practised: in the gradual 
vicissitudes of human error, many new fallacies might obtain 
which the world had not yet held: and how were these errors 
and these crimes to be opposed, but by the inculcation of prin¬ 
ciples that were applicable to every crime and to every error!— 
principles which define not always what is wrong, but which tell 
us what always is right. 

There are two modes of censure or condemnation; the one is to 
reprobate evil, and the other to enforce the opposite good; and both 
these modes were adopted by Christ.—He not only censured the 
passions that are necessary to war, but inculcated the affections 
which are most opposed to them. The conduct and dispositions 
upon which he pronounced his solemn benediction are exceed¬ 
ingly remarkable. They are these, and in this order : Poverty 
of Spirit;—Mourning;—Meekness;—Desire of righteousness;— 
Mercy;—Purity of heart;—Peace-making;—Sufferance of per¬ 
secution. Now let the reader try whether he can propose eight 
other qualities, to be retained as the general habit of the mind 
which shall be more incongruous with war. 

Of these benedictions, I think the most emphatical is that pro¬ 
nounced upon the Peace-makers. “ Blessed are the peace¬ 
makers: for they shall be called the children of God.” 1 Higher 
praise or a higher title, no man can receive. Now I do not say 
that these benedictions contain an absolute proof that Christ 
prohibited war, but I say they make it clear that he did not 
approve it. He selected a number of subjects for his solemn 
approbation; and not one of them possesses any congruity with 
war, and some of them cannot possibly exist in conjunction with 
it. Can any one believe that he who made this selection, and 
who distinguished the peace-makers with peculiar approbation, 
could have sanctioned his followers in destroying one another] 
Or does any one believe, that those who were mourners and meek 
and merciful and peace-making, could at the same time perpetrate 
such destruction ? If I be told that a temporary suspension of 
Christian dispositions, although necessary to the prosecution of 
war, does not imply the extinction of Christian principles; or 
that these dispositions may be the general habit of the mind, and 


Matt. v. 9. 


Chap . 19. 


MATT. xxvi. 52. 


569 


may both precede and follow the acts of war, I answer that this 
is to grant all that I require, since it grants that when we engage 
in war, we abandon Christianity. 

When the betrayers and murderers of Jesus Christ approached 
him, his followers asked, “ Shall we smite with the sword V’ and 
without waiting for an answer, one of them drew “ his sword, 
and smote the servant of the high priest, and cut off his right 
ear.”—“ Put up again thy sword into his place,” said his Divine 
Master: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the 
sword.” 1 There is the greater importance in the circumstances 
of this command, because it prohibited the destruction of human 
life in a cause in which there were the best of possible reasons for 
destroying it. The question, “ shall we smite with the sword,” 
obviously refers to the defence of the Redeemer from his assail¬ 
ants, by force of arms. His followers were ready to fight for 
him ; and if any reason for fighting could be a good one, they 
certainly had it. But if, in defence of Himself from the hands 
of bloody ruffians, his religion did not allow the sword to be 
drawn, for what reason can it be lawful to draw it ] The advo¬ 
cates of war are at least bound to show a better reason for 
destroying mankind, than is contained in this instance in which 
it was forbidden. 

It will, perhaps, be said, that the reason why Christ did not 
suffer himself to be defended by arms, was, that such a defence 
would have defeated the purpose for which he came into the 
world, namely, to offer up his life; and that he himself assigns 
this reason in the context.—He does indeed assign it; but the 
primary reason, the immediate context is,—“ for all they that 
take the sword shall perish with the sword.” The reference to 
the destined sacrifice of his life is an after-reference. This des¬ 
tined sacrifice might, perhaps, have formed a reason why his 
followers should not fight then, but the first, the principal reason 
which he assigned, was a reason why they should not fight at 
all. —Nor is it necessary to define the precise import of the words, 
“ for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword;” 
since it is sufficient for us all, that they imply reprobation. 

It is with the apostles as with Christ himself. The incessant 
object of their discourses and writings is the inculcation of peace, 
of mildness, of placability. It might be supposed that they 

1 Matt. xxvi. 52. 



570 WRITINGS, &c. OF THE Essay 3. 

continually retained in prospect the reward which would attach to 
“ Peace-makers.” We ask the advocate of war, whether he 
discovers in the writings of the apostles or of the evangelists, any 
thing that indicates they approved of war. Do the tenor and 
spirit of their writings bear any congruity with it? Are not their 
spirit and tenor entirely discordant with it? We are entitled 
to renew the observation, that the pacific nature of the apostolic 
writings, proves, presumptively, that the writers disallowed war. 
That could not be allowed by them as sanctioned by Christianity, 
which outraged all the principles that they inculcated. 

“ Whence come wars and fightings among you?” is the inter¬ 
rogation of one of the apostles, to some whom he was reproving 
for their unchristian conduct: and he answers himself by asking 
them, “ Come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your 
members l 1 This accords precisely with the argument that we 
urge. Christ forbad the passions which lead to war; and now, 
when these passions had broken out into actual fighting, his 
apostle, in condemning war, refers it back to their passions. We 
have been saying that the passions are condemned, and therefore 
war ; and now, again, the apostle James thinks, like his master, 
that the most effectual way of eradicating war, is to eradicate the 
passions which produce it. 

In the following quotation we are told, not only what the arms 
of the apostles were not, but what they were. “ The weapons of 
our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling 
down of strong holds; and bringing into captivity every thought to 
the obedience of Christ.” 2 I quote this, not only because it assures 
us that the apostles had nothing to do with military weapons, but 
because it tells us the object of their warfare,—the bringing every 
thought to the obedience of Christ: and this object I would beg 
the reader to notice, because it accords with the object of Christ 
himself in his precepts from the Mount,—the reduction of the 
thoughts to obedience. The apostle doubtless knew that if he 
could effect this, there was little reason to fear that his converts 
would slaughter one another. He followed the example of his 
master. He attacked wickedness in its root; and inculcated 
those general principles of purity and forbearance, which, in their 
prevalence, would abolish war, as they would abolish all other 
crimes. The teachers of Christianity addressed themselves not to 
1 Jas. iv. 1. 2 2 Cor. x. 4. 


571 


Chap. 19. APOSTLES AND EVANGELISTS. 

communities but to men. They enforced the regulation of the 
passions and the rectification of the heart; and it was probably 
clear to the perceptions of apostles, although it is not clear to 
some species of philosophy, that whatever duties were binding 
upon one man, were binding upon ten, upon a hundred, and upon 
the state. 

War is not often directly noticed in the writings of the apostles. 
When it is noticed, it is condemned, just in that way in which 
we should suppose any thing would be condemned that was 
notoriously opposed to the whole system,—just as murder is 
condemned at the present day. Who can find, in modern books, 
that murder is formally censured] We may find censures of its 
motives, of its circumstances, of its degrees of atrocity; but the act 
itself no one thinks of censuring, because every one knows that it 
is wicked. Setting statutes aside, I doubt whether, if an Otahe- 
itan should choose to argue that Christians allow murder because 
he cannot find it formally prohibited in their writings, we should 
not be at a loss to find direct evidence against him. And it 
arises, perhaps, from the same causes, that a formal prohibition of 
war is not to be found in the writings of the apostles. I do not 
believe they imagined that Christianity would ever be charged 
with allowing it. They write, as if the idea of such a charge 
never occurred to them. They did, nevertheless, virtually forbid 
it; unless any one shall say that they disallowed the passions 
which occasion war, but did not disallow war itself; that Christ¬ 
ianity prohibits the cause but permits the effect; which is much 
the same as to say, that a law which forbad the administering 
arsenic did not forbid poisoning. 

But although the general tenor of Christianity and some of its 
particular precepts appear distinctly to condemn and disallow war, 
it is certain that different conclusions have been formed; and 
many, who are undoubtedly desirous of performing the duties of 
Christianity, have failed to perceive that war is unlawful to them. 

In examining the arguments by which war is defended, two 
important considerations should be borne in mind—first, that 
those who urge them are not simply defending war, they are also 
defending themselves. If war be wrong, their conduct is wrong ; 
and the desire of self-justification prompts them to give import¬ 
ance to whatever arguments they can advance in its favour. 
Their decisions may, therefore, with reason, be regarded as in 



572 


THE CENTURION. 


Essay 3. 


some degree the decisions of a party in the cause. The other 
consideration is, that the defenders of war come to the discussion 
prepossessed in its favour. They are attached to it by their 
earliest habits. They do not examine the question as a philoso¬ 
pher would examine it, to whom the subject was new. Their 
opinions had been already formed. They are discussing a ques¬ 
tion which they had already determined: and every man, who is 
acquainted with the effects of evidence on the mind, knows that 
under these circumstances, a very slender argument in favour of 
the previous opinions, possesses more influence than many great 
ones against it. Now all this cannot be predicated of the advo¬ 
cates of peace; they are opposing the influence of habit; they are 
contending against the general prejudice ; they are, perhaps, dis¬ 
missing their own previous opinions: and I would submit it to 
the candour of the reader, that these circumstances ought to 
attach, in his mind, suspicion to the validity of the arguments 
against us. 

The narrative of the centurion who came to Jesus at Capernaum 
to solicit him to heal his servant, furnishes one of these arguments. 
It is said that Christ found no fault with the centurion’s profes¬ 
sion ; that if he had disallowed the military character, he would 
have taken this opportunity of censuring it; and that, instead of 
such censure, he highly commended the officer, and said of him, 
f( I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.” 1 

An obvious weakness in this argument is this; that it is found¬ 
ed not upon an approval, but upon silence. Approbation is in¬ 
deed expressed, but it is directed, not to his arms, but to his 
“ faith;” and those who will read the narrative, will find that no 
occasion was given for noticing his profession. He came to 
Christ not as a military officer but simply as a deserving man. 
A censure of his profession might , undoubtedly, have been pro¬ 
nounced, but it would have been a gratuitous censure, a censure 
that did not naturally arise out of the case. The objection is, in 
its greatest weight, presumptive only; for none can be supposed 
to countenance every thing that he does not condemn. To ob¬ 
serve silence 2 in such cases, was indeed the ordinary practice of 

1 Matt. viii. 10. 

* “ Christianity, soliciting admission into all nations of the world, abstained, as be¬ 
hoved it, from intermeddling with the civil institutions of any. But does it follow, 
from the silence of Scripture concerning them, that all the civil institutions which 
then prevailed were right, or that the bad should not be exchanged for better V’ Paley. 


Chap. 19. CORNELIUS.—SILENCE NOT A PROOF, &C. 573 

Christ. He very seldom interfered with the civil or political 
institutions of the world. In these institutions there was suffi¬ 
cient wickedness around him, but some of them, flagitious as they 
were, he never, on any occasion, even noticed. His mode of 
condemning and extirpating political vices was by the incul¬ 
cation of general rules of purity, which, in their eventual and 
universal application, would reform them all. 

But how happens it that Christ did not notice the centurion’s 
religion? He surely was an idolater. And is there not as good 
reason for maintaining that Christ approved idolatry, because he 
did not condemn it, as that he approved war because he did not 
condemn it 1 Reasoning from analogy, we should conclude that 
idolatry was likely to have been noticed rather than war; and it 
is therefore peculiarly and singularly unapt to bring forward the 
silence respecting war, as an evidence of its lawfulness. 

A similar argument is advanced from the case of Cornelius, 
to whom Peter was sent from Joppa; of which it is said, that 
although the gospel was imparted to Cornelius by the especial 
direction of heaven, yet we do not find that he therefore quitted 
his profession, or that it was considered inconsistent with his new 
character. The objection applies to this argument as to the last, 
that it is built upon silence, that it is simply negative. We do 
not find that he quitted the service :—I might answer, Neither do 
we find that he continued in it. We only know nothing of the 
matter: and the evidence is therefore so much less than proof, as 
silence is less than approbation. Yet, that the account is silent 
respecting any disapprobation of war, might have been a reason¬ 
able ground of argument under different circumstances. It might 
have been a reasonable ground of argument, if the primary object 
of Christianity had been the reformation of political institutions, 
or, perhaps, even if her primary object had been the regulation of 
the external conduct; but her primary object was neither of these. 
She directed herself to the reformation of the heart, knowing that 
all other reformation would follow. She embraced indeed both 
morality and policy, and has reformed, or will reform, both,— 
not So much immediately as consequently; not so much by filter¬ 
ing the current, as by purifying the spring. The silence of Peter, 
therefore, in the case of Cornelius, will serve the cause of war 
but little; that little is diminished when urged against the posi¬ 
tive evidence of commands and prohibitions, and it is reduced to 


574 


PAYMENT OF TAX^S.—LUKE xxii. 36. Essay 3. 

nothingness, when it is opposed to the universal tendency and object 
of the revelation. 

It has sometimes been urged that Christ paid taxes to the Ro¬ 
man government at a time when it was engaged in war, and when, 
therefore, the money that he paid would be employed in its pro¬ 
secution. This we shall readily grant; but it appears to be for¬ 
gotten by our opponents, that if this proves war to be lawful, they 
are proving too much. These taxes were thrown into the ex¬ 
chequer of the state, and a part of the money was applied to 
purposes of a most iniquitous and shocking nature; sometimes, 
probably, to the gratification of the emperor’s personal vices and 
to his gladiatorial exhibitions, &c., and certainly to the support of 
a miserable idolatry. If, therefore, the payment of taxes to such 
a government proves an approbation of war, it proves an appro¬ 
bation of many other enormities. Moreover, the argument goes 
too far in relation even to war; for it must necessarily make 
Christ approve of all the Roman w'ars, without distinction of their 
justice or injustice,—of the most ambitious, the most atrocious, 
and the most aggressive: and these, even our objectors will not 
defend. The payment of tribute by our Lord, was accordant with 
his usual system of avoiding to interfere in the civil or political 
institutions of the world. 

He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one.” 1 
—This is another passage that is brought against us.—“For what 
purpose,” it is asked, “ were they to buy swords, if swords might 
not be usedl” It may be doubted, whether with some of those 
who advance this objection, it is not an objection of words rather 
than of opinion. It may be doubted whether they themselves 
think there is any weight in it. To those, however, who may be 
influenced by it, I would observe, that, as it appears to me, a 
sufficient answer to the objection may be found in the immediate 
context:—“ Lord, behold, here are two swords,” said they; and 

1 Luke xxii. 36. Upon the interpretation of this passage of Scripture, I would 
subjoin the sentiments of two or three authors. Bishop Pearce says, “ It is plain 
that Jesus never intended to make any resistance, or suffer a sword to he used on 
this occasion.” And Campbell says, “We are sure that he did not intend to he under¬ 
stood literally, hut as speaking of the weapons of their spiritual warfare.” And Beza: 
—“ This whole speech is allegorical: My fellow soldiers, you have hitherto lived in 
peace, but now a dreadful war is at hand; so that, omitting all other things, jmu must 
think only of arms. But when he prayed in the garden, and reproved Peter for 
smiting with the sword, he himself showed what these arms were.” See Peace and 
War, an Essay. Hatchard, 1824. 


LUKE xxii. 36. 


575 


Chap. 19. 


he immediately answered, “ It is enough." How could two be 
enough when eleven were to be supplied with them! That swords 
in the sense, and for the purpose, of military weapons, were even 
intended in this passage, there appears much reason for doubting. 
This reason will be discovered by examining and connecting such 
expressions as these : “ The Son of Man is not come to destroy 
men’s lives, but to save them," said our Lord. Yet, on another 
occasion, he says, “ I came not to send peace on earth, but a 
sword” How are we to explain the meaning of the latter 
declaration? Obviously, by understanding “ sword" to mean 
something far other than steel. There appears little reason for 
supposing that physical weapons were intended in the instruction 
of Christ. I believe they were not intended, partly because no 
one can imagine his apostles were in the habit of using such arms, 
partly because they declared that the weapons of their warfare 
were not carnal, and partly because the word “ sword ” is often 
used to imply “dissension," or the religious warfare of the Christian. 
Such an use of language is found in the last quotation; and it is 
found also in such expressions as these: “ shield of faith,”—- 
“helmet of salvation,"— “sword of the spirit,"— c ‘ I have fought 
the good fight of faith." 

But it will be said that the apostles did provide themselves 
with swords, for that on the same evening they asked, “ shall we 
smite with the sword?" This is true and it may probably be true 
also, that some of them provided themselves with swords in con¬ 
sequence of the injunction of their Master. But what then? It 
appears to me that the apostles acted on this occasion upon the 
principles on which they had'wished to act on another, when they 
asked, “ Wilt thou that we command fire to come down from 
heaven, and consume them?” And that their Master’s prin¬ 
ciples of action were also the same in both.—“ Ye know not what 
manner of spirit ye are of; for the Son of Man is not come to 
destroy men’s lives, but to save them." This is the language of 
Christianity; and I would seriously invite him who now justifies 
“ destroying men’s lives," to consider what manner of spirit he 
is of. 

I think then, that no argument arising from the instruction to 
buy swords can be maintained. This, at least, we know, that 
when the apostles were completely commissioned, they neither 
used nor possessed them. An extraordinary imagination he must 


576 


JOHN THE BAPTIST.—GROTIUS. 


Essay 3. 


have, who conceives of an apostle, preaching peace and recon¬ 
ciliation, crying “ forgive injuries ,”— 1 “ love your enemies,”— 
“ render not evil for evil;” and at the conclusion of the discourse, 
if he chanced to meet violence or insult, promptly drawing his 
sword and maiming or murdering the offender. We insist upon 
this consideration. If swords were to be worn, swords were to be 
used; and there is no rational way in which they could have been 
used, but some such as that which we have been supposing. If, 
therefore, the words “ He that hath no sword let him sell his gar¬ 
ment, and buy one,” do not mean to authorize such an use of the 
sword, they do not mean to authorize its use at all: and those 
who adduce the passage, must allow its application in such a 
sense, or they must exclude it from any application to their pur¬ 
pose. 

It has been said, again, that when soldiers came to John the 
Baptist to inquire of him what they should do, he did not direct 
them to leave the service, but to be content with their wages. 
This, also, is at best but a negative evidence. It does not prove 
that the military profession was wrong, and it certainly does not 
prove that it was right. But in truth, if it asserted the latter, 
Christians have, as I conceive, nothing to do with it: for I think 
that we need not inquire what John allowed, or what he forbad. 
He, confessedly, belonged to that system which required “ an eye 
for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth;” and the observations which 
we shall by and by make on the authority of the Law of Moses, 
apply, therefore, to that of John the Baptist. Although it could 
be proved, (which it cannot be,) that he allowed wars, he acted 
not inconsistently with his own dispensation ; and with that dis¬ 
pensation we have no business. Yet, if any one still insists upon 
the authority of John, I would refer him for an answer to Jesus 
Christ himself. What authority He attached to John on questions 
relating to His own dispensation, may be learnt from this,— 
“ The least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” 

It is perhaps no trifling indication of the difficulty which writers 
have found in discovering in the Christian Scriptures arguments 
in support of war, that they have had recourse to such equivocal 
and far-fetched arguments. Grotius adduces a passage which he 
says is “a leading point of evidence to show that the right of war 
is not taken away by the law of the gospel.” And what is this 
leading evidence 1 That Paul, in writing to Timothy, exhorts 


Chap. 19. GROTIUS.-—MILTON.—NEGATIVE EVIDENCE. 577 

that prayer should be made “for kings”! 1 —Another evidence 
which this great man adduces is, that Paul suffered himself to be 
protected on his journey by a guard of soldiers, without hinting 
any disapprobation of repelling force by force. But how does 
Grotius know that Paul did not hint this ? And who can ima¬ 
gine that to suffer himself to be guarded by a military escort 
in the appointment of which he had no control, was to approve 
war ? 

But perhaps the real absence of sound Christian arguments 
in favour of war, is in no circumstance so remarkably intimated 
as in the citations of Milton in his Christian Doctrine. “ With 
regard to the duties of war,” he quotes or refers to thirty-nine 
passages of Scripture,—thirty-eight of which are from the Hebrew 
Scriptures: and what is the individual one from the Christian?— 
“ What king going to war with another king, &c.” ! 2 

Such are the arguments which are adduced from the Christian 
Scriptures, by the advocates of war. In these five passages, the 
principal of the New Testament evidences in its favour, unques¬ 
tionably consist: they are the passages which men of acute 
minds, studiously seeking for evidence, have selected. And what 
are they? Their evidence is in the majority of instances negative 
at best. A “ not” intervenes. The centurion was not found 
fault with : Cornelius was not told to leave the profession: John 
did not tell the soldiers to abandon the army : Paul did not refuse 
a military guard. I cannot forbear to solicit the reader to com¬ 
pare these objections with the pacific evidence of the gospel which 
has been laid before him; I would rather say, to compare it with 
the gospel itself; for the sum, the tendency, of the whole revelation 
is in our favour. 

In an inquiry whether Christianity allows of war, there is a 
subject that always appears to me to be of peculiar importance,— 
the prophesies of the Old Testament respecting the arrival of a 
period of universal peace. The belief is perhaps general amongst 
Christians, that a time will come when vice shall be eradicated 
from the world, when the violent passions of mankind shall be 
repressed, and when the pure benignity of Christianity shall be 
universally diffused. That such a period will come we indeed 
know assuredly, for God has promised it. 

Of the many prophecies of the Old Testament respecting this 

1 See Rights of War and Peace. 2 Luke xiv. 31. 

2 p 


578 


PROPHECIES OF THE OLD TESTAMENT. Essay 3. 


period, we refer only to a few from the writings of Isaiah. In his 
predictions respecting the “ last times,” by which it is not dis¬ 
puted that he referred to the prevalence of the Christian religion, 
the prophet says,— 1 “ They shall beat their swords into plough¬ 
shares, and their spears into pruning hooks: nation shall not lift 
up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” 1 
Again, referring to the same period, he says,'—“ They shall not 
hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain : for the earth shall be 
full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the 
sea.” 2 And again, respecting the same era,—“ Violence shall 
no inore be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy 
borders.” 3 

Two things are to be observed in relation to these prophecies: 
first, that it is the will of God that war should eventually be 
abolished. This consideration is of importance, for if war be 
not accordant with His will, war cannot be accordant with 
Christianity, which is the revelation of His will. Our busi¬ 
ness, however, is principally with the second consideration,— 
that Christianity will be the means of introducing this period of 
Peace. From those who say that our religion sanctions war, an 
answer must be expected to questions such as these:—By what 
instrumentality and by the diffusion of what principles, will the 
prophecies of Isaiah be fulfilled ! Are we to expect some new 
system of religion, by which the imperfections of Christianity 
shall be removed and its deficiencies supplied 1 Are we to be¬ 
lieve that God sent his only Son into the world to institute a re¬ 
ligion such as this,—a religion that, in a few centuries, would 
require to be altered and amended! If Christianity allows of 
war, they must tell us what it is that is to extirpate war. If she 
allows “violence, and wasting, and destruction,” they-must tell 
us what are the principles that are to produce gentleness, and be¬ 
nevolence, and forbearance.—I know not what answer such in¬ 
quiries will receive from the advocate of war, but I know that 
Isaiah says the change will be effected by Christianity: and if 
any one still chooses to expect another and a purer system, an 
apostle may perhaps repress his hopes:—“ Though we or an 
angel from heaven,” says Paul, “ preach any other gospel unto 
you, than that which we have preached unto you, let him be 
accursed.” 4 

1 Isa. ii. 4. 2 Id. xi. 9. 3 Id. lx. 18. * Gal. i. 8. 


Chap. 19. THE REQUISITIONS OF CHRISTIANITY, &c. 579 

Whatever the principles of Christianity will require hereafter, 
they require now. Christianity with its present principles and 
obligations , is to produce universal peace. It becomes, therefore, 
an absurdity, a simple contradiction, to maintain that the prin¬ 
ciples of Christianity allow of war, when they and they only are 
to eradicate it. If we have no other guarantee of Peace than the 
existence of our religion, and no other hope of Peace than in its 
diffusion, how can that religion sanction war ? 

The case is clear. A more perfect obedience to that same 
gospel, which we are told sanctions slaughter, will be the means, 
and the only means, of exterminating slaughter from the world. 
It is not from an alteration of Christianity, but from an assimi¬ 
lation of Christians to its nature, that we are to hope. It is be¬ 
cause we violate the principles of our religion, because we are 
not what they require us to be, that wars are continued. If we 
will not be peaceable, let us then, at least be honest, and acknow¬ 
ledge that we continue to slaughter one another, not because 
Christianity permits it, but because we reject her laws. 

The opinions of the earliest professors of Christianity upon the 
lawfulness of war, are of importance, because they who lived 
nearest to the time of its Founder were the most likely to be in¬ 
formed of his intentions and his will, and to practice them without 
those adulterations which we know have been introduced by the 
lapse of ages. 

During a considerable period after the death of Christ, it is 
certain, then, that his followers believed he had forbidden war, 
and that, in consequence of this belief, many of them refused to 
engage in it whatever were the consequence, whether reproach, 
or imprisonment or death. These facts are indisputable: “ It 
is as easie,” says a learned writer of the seventeenth century, 
“ to obscure the sun at mid-day, as to deny that the primitive 
Christians renounced all revenge and war.’ 5 Christ and his apostles 
delivered general precepts for the regulation of our conduct. It 
was necessary for their successors to apply them to their practice 
in life. And to what did they apply the pacific precepts which 
had been delivered 1 They applied them to war: they were 
assured that the precepts absolutely forbad it. This belief they 
derived from those very precepts on which we have insisted: 
they referred, expressly, to the same passages in the New Testa¬ 
ment, and from the authority and obligation of those passages, they 



580 EXAMPLE OF THE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANS. Essay 3. 

refuse to bear arms. A few examples from their history will 
show with what undoubting confidence they believed in the un¬ 
lawfulness of war, and how much they w r ere willing to suffer in 
the cause of Peace. 

Maximilian, as it is related in the Acts of Ruinart, was brought 
before the tribunal to be enrolled as a soldier. On the pro-con¬ 
sul’s asking his name, Maximilian replied, “ I am a Christian, 
and cannot fight.” It was however ordered that he should be 
enrolled, but he refused to serve, still alleging that he was a 
Christian. He was immediately told that there was no alter¬ 
native between bearing arms, and being put to death. But his 
fidelity was not to be shaken:—“ I cannot fight,” said he “ if I 
die.” He continued steadfast to his principles and was consigned 
to the executioner. 

The primitive Christians not only refused to be enlisted in 
the army, but when they embraced Christianity whilst already 
enlisted, they abandoned the profession at whatever cost. Mar- 
cellus was a centurion in the legion called Trajana. Whilst 
holding this commission he became a Christian; and believing, in 
common with his fellow Christians, that war was no longer per¬ 
mitted to him, he threw down his belt at the head of the legion, 
declaring that he had become a Christian, and that he would serve 
no longer. He was committed to prison; bur he was still faithful 
to Christianity. “ It is not lawful,” said he, “ for a Christian to 
bear arms for any earthly consideration;” and he was in con¬ 
sequence put to death. Almost immediately afterwards, Cassian, 
who was notary to the same legion, gave up his office. He stead¬ 
fastly maintained the sentiments of Marcellas, and like him was 
consigned to the executioner. Martin, of whom so much is said 
by Sulpicius Severus, was bred to the profession of arms, which, 
on his acceptance of Christianity, he abandoned. To Julian the 
Apostate, the only reason that we find he gave for his conduct 
was this:—“ I am a Christian, and therefore I cannot fight.” 

These were not the sentiments, and this v r as not the conduct, of 
insulated individuals w T ho might be actuated by individual opinion, 
or by their private interpretations of the duties of Christianity. 
Their principles were the principles of the body. They were 
recognised and defended by the Christian writers their cotempora¬ 
ries. Justin Martyr and Tatian talk of soldiers and Christians as 
distinct characters; and Tatian says that the Christians declined 


Chap. 19. CELSUS.—-ORIGEN.—TERTULLIAN. 


581 


even military commands. Clemens of Alexandria calls his Christ¬ 
ian cotemporaries the “ Followers of Peace/’ and expressly tells 
us that the followers of peace used none of the implements of 
war.” Lactantius, another early Christian, says expressly, "It 
can never be lawful for a righteous man to go to war.” About 
the end of the second century, Celsus, one of the opponents of 
Christianity, charged the Christians with refusing to bear arms 
even in case of necessity. Origen, the defender of the Christians, 
does not think of denying the fact; he admits the refusal, and 
justifies it, because war was unlawful. Even after Christianity 
had spread over almost the whole of the known world, TertuIlian, 
in speaking of a part of the Roman armies, including more than 
one third of the standing legions of Rome, distinctly informs us 
that “ not a Christian could be found amongst them.” 

All this is explicit. The evidence of the following facts is 
however yet more determinate and satisfactory. Some of the 
arguments which, at the present day, are brought against the 
advocates of peace, were then urged against these early Christians; 
and these arguments they examined and repelled. This indicates 
investigation and inquiry, and manifests that their belief of the 
unlawfulness of war, was not a vague opinion, hastily admitted 
and loosely floating amongst them, but that it was the result of 
deliberate examination, and a consequent firm conviction that 
Christ had forbidden it. The very same arguments which are 
brought in defence of war at the present day, were brought against 
the Christians sixteen hundred j^ears ago; and, sixteen hundred 
years ago, they were repelled by these faithful contenders for the 
purity of our religion. It is remarkable too, that Tertullian ap¬ 
peals to the precepts from the Mount, in proof of those principles 
on which this chapter has been insisting:— that the dispositions 
which the precepts inculcate are not compatible with war, and that 
war, therefore, is irreconcilable with Christianity. 

If it be possible, a still stronger evidence of the primitive be¬ 
lief, is contained in the circumstance, that some of the Christian 
authors declared that the refusal of the Christians to bear arms, 
was a fulfilment of ancient prophecy. The peculiar strength of 
this evidence consists in this,—that the fact of a refusal to bear 
arms, is assumed as notorious and unquestioned. Irenaeus, who 
lived about the year 180, affirms that the prophecy of Isaiah, 
which declared that men should turn their swords into plough- 



582 IRENiEUS.—JUSTIN MARTYR.—CHRISTIANS Essay 3. 

shares and their spears into pruning-hooks, had been fulfilled in 
his time; “for the Christians,” says he, “have changed their 
swords and their lances into instruments of peace, and they know 
not how to fight” Justin Martyr, his cotemporary, writes,—• 
“ That the prophecy is fulfilled you have good reason to believe, 
for we, who in times past killed one another, do not now fight with 
our enemies” Tertullian, who lived later, says, “ You must 
confess that the prophecy has been accomplished, as far as the 
'practice of every individual is concerned , to whom it is appli¬ 
cable.” 

It has been sometimes said, that the motive which influenced 
the early Christians to refuse to engage in war, consisted in the 
idolatry which was connected with the Roman armies.— One mo¬ 
tive this idolatry unquestionably afforded; but it is obvious, from 
the quotations which we have given, that their belief of the un¬ 
lawfulness of fighting, independent of any question of idolatry , 
was an insuperable objection to engaging in war. Their words 
are explicit: “I cannot fight if I die.”-—“I am a Christian, and 
therefore I cannot fight.” —“ Christ,” says Tertullian, “ by disarm¬ 
ing Peter , disarmed every soldier;” and Peter was not about to 
fight in the armies of idolatry. So entire was their conviction of 
the incompatibility of war with our religion, that they would not 
even be present at the gladiatorial fights, “lest,” says Theophilus, 
“ we should become partakers of the murders committed there.” 
Can any one believe that they, who would not even witness a 
battle between two men, would themselves fight in a battle between 
armies 1 And the destruction of a gladiator, it should be remem¬ 
bered, was authorized by the state, as much as the destruction of 
enemies in war. 

It is, therefore, indisputable, that the Christians who lived nearest 
to the time of our Saviour, believed, with undoubting confidence, 
that he had unequivocally forbidden war;—that they openly 
avowed this belief; and that, in support of it, they were willing 
to sacrifice, and did sacrifice, their fortunes and their lives. 

Christians, however, afterwards became soldiers: and when 1 —- 
When their general fidelity to Christianity became relaxed;— 
when, in other respects, they violated its principles;—when they 
had begun “ to dissemble,” and “ to falsify their word,” and “to 
cheat;”—when “ Christian casuists” had persuaded them that they 
might “ sit at meat in the idol's temple;”— when Christians ac- 


Chap. 19. BECOME SOLDIERS.—WARS OF THE JEWS. 583 

cepted even the priesthoods of idolatry. In a word, they became 
soldiers, when they had ceased to be Christians. 

The departure from the original faithfulness, was however not 
suddenly general. Like every other corruption, war obtained by 
degrees. During the first two hundred years, not a Christian 
soldier is upon record. In the third century, when Christianity 
became partially corrupted, Christian soldiers were common. The 
number increased with the increase of the general profligacy; 
until at last, in the fourth century, Christians became soldiers 
without hesitation, and perhaps without remorse. Here and 
there, however, an ancient father still lifted up his voice for 
Peace; but these, one after another, dropping from the world, the 
tenet that War is unlawful , ceased at length to be a tenet of the 
church. 

Let it always be borne in mind by those who are advocating 
war, that they are contending for a corruption which their fore¬ 
fathers abhorred; and that they are making Jesus Christ the sanc- 
tioner of crimes, which his purest followers offered up their lives 
because they would not commit. 

An argument has sometimes been advanced in favour of war, 
from the divine communications to the Jews under the administra¬ 
tion of Moses. It has been said, that as wars were allowed and 
enjoined to that people, they cannot be inconsistent with the will 
of God. 

The reader, who has perused the First Essay of this work, will 
be aware that to the present argument our answer is short:—If 
Christianity prohibits war, there is, to Christians, an end of the 
controversy. War cannot then be justified by the referring to 
any antecedent dispensation. One brief observation may how¬ 
ever be offered, that those who refer, in justification of our present 
practice, to the authority by which the Jews prosecuted their 
Avars, must be expected to produce the same authority for our own. 
Wars were commanded to the Jews, but are they commanded to 
us? War, in the abstract, was never commanded: and surely 
those specific wars which were enjoined upon the Jews for an 
express purpose, are neither authority nor example for us, who 
have received no such injunction, and can plead no such purpose. 

It will perhaps be said that the commands to prosecute wars, 
even to extermination, are so positive and so often repeated, that 
it is not probable, if they were inconsistent with the will of hea- 



584 


ARGUMENTS EXAMINED. 


Essay 3 . 


ven, that they would have been thus peremptorily enjoined. We 
answer, that they were not inconsistent "with the will of heaven 
then. But even then, the prophets foresaw that they were not 
accordant with the universal will of God, since they predicted, 
that when that Will should be fulfilled, war should be eradicated 
from the world. And by what dispensation was this Will to be 
fulfilled] By that of the “ Rod out of the stem of Jesse.” It is 
worthy of recollection, too, that David was forbidden to build the 
temple because he had shed blood. “ As for me, it was in my 
mind to build an house unto the name of the Lord my God: but 
the word of the Lord came to me, saying, Thou hast shed blood 
abundantly, and hast made great wars: thou shalt not build an 
house unto my name, because thou hast shed much blood upon the 
earth in my sight.” 1 So little accordancy did war possess with 
the purer offices even of the Jewish Dispensation. 

Perhaps the argument to which the greatest importance is at¬ 
tached by the advocates of war, and by which thinking men are 
chiefly induced to acquiesce in its lawfulness is this ,—That a dis¬ 
tinction is to be made between rules which apply to us as individ¬ 
uals , and rules which apply to us as subjects of the state ; and that 
the pacific injunctions of Christ from the Mount , and all the other 
kindred commands and prohibitions of the Christian Scriptures, 
have no reference to our conduct as members of the political body. 

If there be soundness in the doctrines which have been deli¬ 
vered at the commencement of the Essay upon the “ Elements of 
Political Rectitude,” this argument possesses no force or appli¬ 
cation. 

When persons make such broad distinctions between the obli¬ 
gations of Christianity on private and on public affairs, the proof 
of the rectitude of the distinction, must be expected of those who 
make it. General rules are laid down by Christianity, of which, 
in some cases, the advocate of war denies the applicability. He, 
therefore, is to produce the reason and the authority for the excep¬ 
tion. And that authority must be a competent authority,—the 
authority mediately or immediately of God. It is to no purpose 
for such a person to tell us of the magnitude of political affairs,-— 
of the greatness of the interests which they involve,—of “ neces¬ 
sity,” or of expediency. All these are very proper considerations 
in subordination to the Moral Law;—otherwise they are wholly 
1 1 Chron. xxii. 7, 8. 


Chap. 19. DUTIES OF INDIVIDUALS AND NATIONS. 585 


nugatory and irrelevant. Let the reader observe the manner in 
which the argument is supported.—If an individual suffers aggres¬ 
sion, there is a power to which he can apply that is above himself 
and above the aggressor; a power by which the bad passions of 
those around him are restrained, or by which their aggressions are 
punished. But amongst nations there is no acknowledged superior 
or common arbitrator. Even if there were, there is no way in 
which its decisions could be enforced, but by the sword. War, 
therefore, is the only means which one nation possesses of pro¬ 
tecting itself from the aggression of another. The reader will 
observe the fundamental fallacy upon which the argument pro¬ 
ceeds.—It assumes, that the reason why an individual is not per¬ 
mitted to use violence is, that the laws will use it for him. Here 
is the error; for the foundation of the duty of forbearance in 
private life, is not that the laws will punish aggression, but that 
Christianity requires forbearance. 

Undoubtedly, if the existence of a common arbitrator were 
the foundation of the duty, the duty would not be binding upon 
nations. But that which we require to be proved is this,—that 
Christianity exonerates nations from those duties which she has 
imposed upon individuals. This, the present argument does not 
prove: and, in truth, with a singular unhappiness in its ap¬ 
plication, it assumes, in effect, that she has imposed these duties 
upon neither the one nor the other. 

If it be said, that Christianity allows to individuals some 
degree and kind of resistance, and that some resistance is there¬ 
fore lawful to states, we do not deny it. But if it be said, that the 
degree of lawful resistance extends to the slaughter of our fellow 
Christians,—that it extends to war,—we do deny it: we say that 
the rules of Christianity cannot, by any possible latitude of inter¬ 
pretation, be made to extend to it. The duty of forbearance, 
then, is antecedent to all considerations respecting the condition of 
man; and whether he be under the protection of laws or not, the 
duty of forbearance is imposed. 

The only truth which appears to be elicited by the present 
argument is, that the difficulty of obeying the forbearing rules 
of Christianity, is greater in the case of nations than in the case 
of individuals : The obligation to obey them is the same in both. 
Nor let any one urge the difficulty of obedience in opposition 
to the duty ; for he who does this, has yet to learn one of the most 




586 


OFFENSIVE AND DEFENSIVE WAR. Essay 3. 


awful rules of his religion, —■ a rule that was enforced by the 
precepts, and more especially by the final example, of Christ, of 
apostles and of martyrs, the rule which requires that we should 
be “ obedient even unto death.” 

Let it not however be supposed that we believe the difficulty of 
forbearance would be great in practice, as it is great in theory. 
Our interests are commonly promoted by the fulfilment of our 
duties; and we hope hereafter to show, that the fulfilment of the 
duty of forbearance forms no exception to the applicability of the 
rule. 

The intelligent reader will have perceived that the “War” 
of which we speak is all war, without reference to its objects whe¬ 
ther offensive or defensive. In truth, respecting any other than 
defensive war, it is scarcely worth while to entertain a question, 
since no one with whom we are concerned to reason will advocate 
its opposite. Some persons indeed talk with much complacency 
of their reprobation of offensive war. Yet to reprobate no more 
than this, is only to condemn that which wickedness itself is not 
wont to justify. Even those who practise offensive war affect to 
veil its nature by calling it by another name. 

In conformity with this we find that it is to defence that the 
peaceable precepts of Christianity are directed. Offence appears 
not to have even suggested itself. It is “ Resist not evil it is, 
“Overcome evil with good:” it is “Do good to them that hate 
you:” it is, “Love your enemies :” it is, “Render not evil 
for evil :” it is, “Unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek” 
All this supposes previous offence, or injmy, or violence; and it is 
then that forbearance is enjoined. 

It is common with those who justify defensive war, to identify 
the question with that of individual self-defence, and although the 
questions are in practice sufficiently dissimilar it has been seen 
that we object not to their being regarded as identical. The Rights 
of Self-Defence have already been discussed, and the conclusions 
to which the Moral Law appears to lead, afford no support to the 
advocate of war. 

We say the questions are practically dissimilar ; so that if we 
had a right to kill a man in self-defence, very few wars would be 
shown to be lawful. Of the wars which are prosecuted, some are 
simply wars of aggression; some are for the maintenance of a 
balance of power; some are in assertion of technical rights; and 


WARS ALWAYS AGGRESSIVE. 


587 


Chap. 19 . 


some, undoubtedly, to repel invasion. The last are perhaps the 
fewest; and of these only it can be said that they bear any 
analogy whatever to the case which is supposed; and even in 
these, the analogy is seldom complete. It has rarely indeed hap¬ 
pened that wars have been undertaken simply for the preservation 
of life, and that no other alternative has remained to a people, 
than to kill, or to be killed. And let it be remembered, that 
unless this alternative alone remains, the case of individual self- 
defence is irrelevant: it applies not, practically, to the subject. 

But indeed you cannot in practice make distinctions, even 
moderately accurate, between defensive war and war for other 
purposes. 

Supposing, the Christian Scriptures had said, An army may 
fight in its own defence , but not for any other purpose .—Whoever 
will attempt to apply this rule in practice, will find that he has a 
very wide range of justifiable warfare; a range that will embrace 
many more wars, than moralists, laxer than we shall suppose him 
to be, are willing to defend. If an army may fight in defence of 
their own lives, they may, and they must fight in defence, of 
the lives of others : if they may fight in defence of the lives 
of others, they will fight in defence of their property: if in 
defence of property, they will fight in defence of political rights: 
if in defence of rights, they will fight in promotion of interests : if 
in promotion of interests, they will fight in promotion of their 
glory and their crimes. Now let any man of honesty look over 
the gradations by which we arrive at this climax, and I believe he 
will find that, in practice, no curb can be placed upon the conduct 
of an army until they reach that climax. There is, indeed, a 
wide distance between fighting in defence of life, and fighting in 
furtherance of our crimes; but the steps which lead from one to 
the other will follow in inevitable succession. I know that the 
letter of our rule excludes it, but I know that the rule will 
be a letter only. It is very easy for us to sit in our studies, and 
to point the commas, and semicolons, and periods of the soldier’s 
career: it is very easy for us to say, he shall stop at defence 
of life, or at protection of property, or at the support of rights ; 
but armies will never listen to us: we shall be only the Xerxes of 
morality, throwing our idle chains into the tempestuous ocean of 
slaughter. 

What is the testimony of experience ? When nations are 


588 


PALEY.—WAR WHOLLY FORBIDDEN. Essay 3. 


mutually exasperated, and armies are levied, and battles are 
fought, does not every one know that with whatever motives 
of defence one party may have begun the contest, both, in turn, 
become aggressors? In the fury of slaughter, soldiers do not 
attend, they cannot attend, to questions of aggression. Their 
business is destruction, and their business they will perform. 
If the army of defence obtains success, it soon becomes an army 
of aggression. Having repelled the invader, it begins to punish 
him. If a war has once begun, it is vain to think of distinctions 
of aggression and defence. Moralists may talk of distinctions, but 
soldiers will make none ; and none can be made ; it is without the 
limits of possibility. 

Indeed some of the definitions of defensive or of just war 
which are proposed by moralists, indicate how impossible it is 
to confine warfare within any assignable limits. “ The objects of 
just war,” says Paley, “are precaution, defence, or reparation.” 
—“ Every just war, supposes an injury perpetrated, attempted, or 
feared.” 

I shall acknowledge, that if these be justifying motives to war, 

I see very little purpose in talking of morality upon the subject. 

It is in vain to expatiate on moral obligations, if we are 
at liberty to declare war whenever an “injury is feared:”—an 
injury, without limit to its insignificance! a fear, without sti¬ 
pulation for its reasonableness! The judges, also, of the reason¬ 
ableness of fear, are to be they who are under its influence ; and 
who so likely to judge amiss as those who are afraid? Sounder 
philosophy than this has told us, that “ he who has to reason upon 
his duty when the temptation to transgress it is before him, 
is almost sure to reason himself into an error.’ 5 

Violence, and Rapine, and Ambition, are not to be restrained by 
morality like this. It may serve for the speculations of a study; 
but we will venture to affirm, that mankind will never be con¬ 
trolled by it. Moral rules are useless, if, from their own nature, 
they cannot be, or will not be applied. Who believes that if 
kings and conquerors may fight when they have fears, they will 
not fight when they have them not ? The morality allows too 
much latitude to the passions, to retain any practical restraint 
upon them. And a morality that will not be practised, 1 had 
almost said, that cannot be practised, is an useless morality. It 
is a theory of morals. We want clearer and more exclusive rules; 


Chap. 19 . 


THE QUAKERS IN AMERICA. 


589 


we want more obvious and immediate sanctions. It were in vain 
for a philosopher to say to a general who was burning for glory, 
You are at liberty to engage in the war provided you have 
suffered, or fear you will suffer an injury; otherwise Christianity 
prohibits it.”—He will tell him of twenty injuries that have been 
suffered, of a hundred that have been attempted, and of a thousand 
that he fears. And what answer can the philosopher make to 
him 1 

If these are the proper standards of just war, there will be 
little difficulty in proving any war to be just, except indeed that 
of simple aggression; and by the rules of this morality, the 
aggressor is difficult of discovery; for he whom we choose to 
“ fear,” may say that he had previous “ fear” of us, and that his 
“ fear ” prompted the hostile symptoms which made us “ fear” 
again.—The truth is, that to attempt to make any distinctions 
upon the subject, is vain. War must be wholly forbidden, or 
allowed without restriction to defence ; for no definitions of lawful 
and unlawful war, will be, or can be, attended to. If the princi¬ 
ples of Christianity, in any case, or for any purpose, allow armies 
to meet and to slaughter one another, her principles will never 
conduct us to the period which prophecy has assured us they 
shall produce. There is no hope of an eradication of war but by 
an absolute and total abandonment of it. 


-OF THE PROBABLE PRACTICAL EFFECTS OF ADHERING TO THE 
MORAL LAW IN RESPECT TO WAR. 

We have seen that the duties of the religion which God has 
imparted to mankind require irresistance; and surely it is reason¬ 
able to hope, even without a reference to experience, that he 
will make our irresistance subservient to our interests;—that if, 
for the purpose of conforming to his will, we subject ourselves to 
difficulty or danger, he will protect us in our obedience and direct 
it to our benefit;—that if he requires us not to be concerned in 
war, he will preserve us in peace;—that he will not desert Ihose 
who have no other protection, and who have abandoned all other 
protection because they confide in His alone. 

This we may reverently hope ; yet it is never to be forgotten 




590 


THE QUAKERS IN AMERICA 


Essay 3 . 


that our apparent interests in the present life, are sometimes, in 
the economy of God, made subordinate to our interests in futurity. 

Yet, even in reference only to the present state of existence, I 
believe we shall find, that the testimony of experience is, that 
forbearance is most conducive to our interests. There is practical 
truth in the position that “ When a man’s ways please the Lord, 
he “ maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him” 

The reader of American history will recollect, that in the 
beginning of the last century, a desultory and most dreadful war¬ 
fare was carried on by the natives against the European settlers; 
a warfare that was provoked, as such warfare has almost always 
originally been, by the injuries and violence of the Christians. 
The mode of destruction was secret and sudden. The barbarians 
sometimes lay in wait for those who might come within their 
reach on the highway or in the fields, and shot them without 
warning; and sometimes they attacked the Europeans in their 
houses, “ scalping some, and knocking out the brains of others.” 
From this horrible warfare, the inhabitants sought safety by 
abandoning their homes, and retiring to fortified places or to the 
neighbourhood of garrisons; and those whom necessity still com¬ 
pelled to pass beyond the limits of such protection, provided 
themselves with arms for their defence. But amidst this dreadful 
desolation and universal terror, the Society of Friends, who were 
a considerable portion of the whole population, were steadfast 
to their principles. They would neither retire to garrisons nor 
provide themselves with arms. They remained openly in the 
country, whilst the rest were flying to the forts. They still pur¬ 
sued their occupations in the fields or at their homes, without a 
weapon either for annoyance or defence. And what was their 
fate ] They lived in security and quiet. The habitation, which, 
to his armed neighbour, was the scene of murder and of the 
scalping knife, was to the unarmed Quaker a place of safety and 
of peace. 

, Three of the Society were however killed. And who were 
they 1 They were three who abandoned their principles. Two 
of these victims were men, who, in the simple language of the 
narreftor, “ used to go to their labour without any weapons, and 
trusted to the Almighty, and depended on His providence to 
protect them; (it being their principle not to use weapons of war 
to offend others or to defend themselves;) but a spirit of distrust 


Chap. 19 . 


THE QUAKERS IN IRELAND. 


591 


taking place in their minds, they took weapons of war to defend 
themselves, and the Indians, who had seen them several times 
without them and let them alone, saying they were peaceable men 
and hurt nobody, therefore they would not hurt them,—-now seeing 
them have guns, and supposing they designed to kill the Indians, 
they therefore shot the men dead.” The third whose life was 
sacrificed was a woman, who “ had remained in her habitation,” 
not thinking herself warranted in going “ to a fortified place for 
preservation, neither she, her son, nor daughter, nor to take 
thither the little ones; but the poor woman after some time 
began to let in a slavish fear, and advised her children to go with 
her to a fort not far from their dwelling.” She went;—and 
shortly afterwards “ the bloody, cruel Indians, lay by the way, 
and killed her.” 1 

The fate of the Quakers during the Rebellion in Ireland was 
nearly similar. It is well known that the Rebellion was a 
time not only of open war but of cold-blooded murder; of the 
utmost fury of bigotry, and the utmost exasperation of revenge. 
Yet the Quakers were preserved even to a proverb ; and when 
strangers passed through streets of ruin and observed a house 
standing uninjured and alone, they would sometimes point, and 
say,—“ That, doubtless, is the house of a Quaker.” 2 So com¬ 
plete indeed was the preservation which these people experienced, 
that in an official document of the society they say,—“ no member 
of our society fell a sacrifice but one young man;”—and that 
young man had assumed regimentals and arms. 3 

It were to no purpose to say, in opposition to the evidence 
of these facts, that they form an exception to a general rule.— 
The exception to the rule consists in the trial of the experiment 
of non-resistance, not in its success. Neither were it to any pur¬ 
pose to say, that the savages of America or the desperadoes of 
Ireland, spared the Quakers because they were previously known 
to be an unoffending people, or because the Quakers had pre¬ 
viously gained the love of these by forbearance or good offices 
we concede all this ; it is the very argument which we maintain. 
We say, that an uniform , undeviating regard to the peaceable 

1 See Select Anecdotes, &c. by John Barclay, pages 71. 79. 

2 The Moravians, whose principles upon the subject of war are similar to those 
of the Quakers, experienced also similar preservation. 

3 See Hancock’s Principles of Peace Exemplified. 


592 


RAMOND’S TRAVELS. 


Essay 3 . 


obligations of Christianity, becomes the safeguard of those who 
practise it. We venture to maintain, that no reason whatever 
can be assigned, why the fate of the Quakers would not be 
the fate of all who should adopt their conduct. No reason can 
be assigned why, if their number had been multiplied tenfold or a 
hundred fold, they would not have been preserved. If there be 
such a reason, let us hear it. The American and Irish Quakers 
were, to the rest of the community, what one nation is to a conti¬ 
nent. And we must require the advocate of war to produce (that 
which has never yet been produced,) a reason for believing, that 
although individuals exposed to destruction were preserved, a 
nation exposed to destruction would be destroyed. We do not 
however say, that if a people, in the customary state of men’s 
passions, should be assailed by an invader, and should, on a sud¬ 
den, choose to declare that they would try whether Providence 
would protect them,—of such a people, we do not say that they 
would experience protection, and that none of them would be 
killed: but we say, that the evidence of experience is, that a 
people who habitually regard the obligations of Christianity in 
their conduct towards other men, and who steadfastly refuse, 
through whatever consequences, to engage in acts of hostility, 
will experience protection in their peacefulness :—And it matters 
nothing to the argument, whether we refer that protection to the 
immediate agency of Povidence, or to the influence of such 
conduct upon the minds of men. 1 

Such has been the experience of the unoffending and unresist¬ 
ing, in individual life. A National example of a refusal to bear 
arms, has only once been exhibited to the world: but that one 
example has proved, so far as its political circumstances enabled 

1 Ramond, in his “ Travels in the Pyrenees,” fell in from time to time with those 
desperate marauders who infest the boundaries of Spain and Italy,—men who are 
familiar with danger and robbery and blood. What did experience teach him was the 
most efficient means of preserving himself from injury 1 To go “ unarmed .” He 
found that he had “ little to apprehend from men whom we inspire with no distrust 
or envy, and every thing to expect in those from whom we claim only what is due 
from man to man. The laws of nature still exist for those who have long shaken off 
the law of civil government.”—“ The assassin has been my guide in the defiles of 
the boundaries of Italy; the smuggler of the Pyrenees has received me with a wel¬ 
come in his secret paths. Armed I should have been the enemy of both: unarmed 
they have alike respected me. In such expectation I have long since laid aside all 
menacing apparatus whatever. Arms irritate the wicked and intimidate the simple : 
the man of peace amongst mankind has a much more sacred defence,—his character.” 


Chap. 19. COLONIZATION OF PENNSYLVANIA. 


593 


it to prove, all that humanity could desire and all that scepticism 
could demand, in favour of our argument. 

It has been the ordinary practice of those who have colonized 
distant countries, to force a footing, or to maintain it, with the 
sword. One of the first objects has been to build a fort and to 
provide a military. The adventurers became soldiers, and the 
colony was a garrison. Pennsylvania was however colonized by 
men who believed that war was absolutely incompatible with 
Christianity, and who therefore resolved not to practise it. Hav¬ 
ing determined not to fight, they maintained no soldiers and pos¬ 
sessed no arms. They planted themselves in a country that was 
surrounded by savages, and by savages who knew they were 
unarmed. If easiness of conquest, or incapability of defence, 
could subject them to outrage, the Pennsylvanians might have 
been the very sport of violence. Plunderers might have robbed 
them without retaliation, and armies might have slaughtered them 
without resistance. If they did not give a temptation to outrage, 
no temptation could be given. But these were the people who 
possessed their country in security, whilst those around them 
were trembling for their existence. This was a land of peace, 
whilst every other was a land of war. The conclusion is inevita¬ 
ble, although it is extraordinary :—they were in no need of arms 
because they would not use them. 

These Indians were sufficiently ready to commit outrages upon 
other States, and often visited them with desolation and slaughter; 
with that sort of desolation, and that sort of slaughter, which 
might be expected from men whom civilization had not reclaimed 
from cruelty, and whom religion had not awed into forbearance. 
“ But whatever the quarrels of the Pennsylvanian Indians were 
with others, they uniformly respected and held as it were sacred, 
the territories of William Penn. 1 The Pennsylvanians never 
lost man, woman, or child by them; which neither the colony of 
Maryland, nor that of Virginia could say, no more than the great 
colony of New England.” 2 

The security and quiet of Pennsylvania was not a transient 
freedom from war, such as might accidentally happen to any 
nation. She continued to enjoy it “ for more than seventy years,” 3 
and “ subsisted in the midst of six Indian nations, without so much 
as a militia for her defence.” 4 “ The Pennsylvanians became 

1 Clarkson. 2 Oldmixon, Anno 1708. 3 Proud. 4 Oldmixon, 

2a 


594 


CLARKSON—CONFIDENCE IN THE Essay 3. 


armed, though without arms ; they became strong, though without 
strength; they became safe, without the ordinary means of safety. 
The constable’s staff was the only instrument of authority amongst 
them for the greater part of a century, and never, during the 
administration of Penn or that of his proper successors, was there 
a quarrel or a war.” 1 

I cannot wonder that these people were not molested,—extraor¬ 
dinary and unexampled as their security was. There is some¬ 
thing so noble in this perfect confidence in the Supreme Pro¬ 
tector, in this utter exclusion of “ slavish fear,” in this voluntary 
relinquishment of the means of injury or of defence, that I do not 
wonder that even ferocity could be disarmed by such virtue. A 
people, generously living without arms, amidst nations of war¬ 
riors ! Who would attack a people such as this ? There are 
few men so abandoned as not to respect such confidence. It were 
a peculiar and an unusual intensity of wickedness that would not 
even revere it. 

And when was the security of Pennsylvania molested, and its 
peace destroyed ?—When the men who had directed its counsels 
and who would not engage in war , were outvoted in its legisla¬ 
ture : when they who supposed that there was greater security in 
the sword than in Christianity , became the predominating body. 
From that hour the Pennsylvanians transferred their confidence 
in Christian Principles, to a confidence in their arms ; —and from 
that hour to the present they have been subject to war. 

Such is the evidence derived from a national example, of the 
consequences of a pursuit of the Christian policy in relation to 
war. Here are a people who absolutely refused to fight, and 
who incapacitated themselves for resistance by refusing to possess 
arms ; and these were the people whose land, amidst surrounding 
broils and slaughter, was selected as a land of security and peace. 
The only national opportunity which the virtue of the Christian 
world has afforded us, of ascertaining the safety of relying upon 
God for defence, has determined that it is safe. 

If the evidence which we possess do not satisfy us of the 
expediency of confiding in God, what evidence do we ask, or 
what can we receive 1 We have his promise that he will protect 
those who abandon their seeming interests in the performance of 
his will ; and we have the testimony of those who have confided 
1 Clarkson : Life of Penn. 


PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 


595 


Chap. 19 . 

in him, that he has protected them. Can the advocate of war 
produce one single instance in the history of man, of a person who 
had given an unconditional obedience to the will of heaven, and 
who did not find that his conduct was wise as well as virtuous, 
that it accorded with his interests as well as with his duty. We 
ask the same question in relation to the peculiar obligations to 
irresistance. Where is the man who regrets, that in observance 
of the forbearing duties of Christianity, he consigned his pre¬ 
servation to the superintendence of God ?—And the solitary 
national example that is before us, confirms the testimony of 
private life; for there is sufficient reason for believing, that no 
nation, in modern ages, has possessed so large a portion of virtue 
or of happiness, as Pennsylvania before it had seen human blood. 
I would therefore repeat the question,—What evidence do we 
ask or can we receive ] 

This is the point from which we wander:— we do not believe 
in the providence of God. When this statement is formally 
made to us, we think, perhaps, that it is not true; but our prac¬ 
tice is an evidence of its truth; for if we did believe, we should 
also confide in it, and should be willing to stake upon it the con¬ 
sequences of our obedience. 1 We can talk with sufficient flu¬ 
ency of “ trusting in Providence,” but in the application of it to 
our conduct in life, we know wonderfully little. Who is it that 
confides in Providence, and for what does he trust him 1 Does 
his confidence induce him to set aside his own views of interest 
and safety, and simply to obey precepts which appear inexpedient 
and unsafe 1 This is the confidence that is of value, and of which 
we know so little. There are many who believe that war is dis¬ 
allowed by Christianity, and who would rejoice that it were for 
over abolished; but there are few who are willing to maintain an 
undaunted and unyielding stand against it. They can talk of the 
loveliness of peace, aye, and argue against the lawfulness of war, 
but when difficulty or suffering would be the consequence, they 
will not refuse to do what they know to be unlawful, they will 
not practise the peacefulness which they say they admire. Those 
who are ready to sustain the consequences of undeviating obedi- 

1 “ The dread of being destroyed by our enemies if we do not go to “ war with 
them, is a plain and unequivocal proof of our disbelief in the superintendence of 
Divine Providence. ’ The Lawfulness of Defensive War impartially considered. By 
a Member of the Church of England. 




596 


RECAPITULATION. 


Essay 3 . 


ence, are the supporters of whom Christianity stands in need. 
She wants men who are willing to suffer for her principles. 

The positions then which we have endeavoured to establish 
are these— 

I. That those considerations which operate as general Causes 
of War, are commonly such as Christianity condemns: 

II. That the Effects of War are, to a very great extent, preju¬ 
dicial to the moral character of a people, and to their social 
and political welfare: 

III. That the General Character of Christianity is wholly in¬ 
congruous with war, and that its General Duties are incom¬ 
patible with it: 

IV. That some of the express Precepts and Declarations of the 
Christian Scriptures virtually forbid it: 

V. That the Primitive Christians believed that Christ had for¬ 
bidden War; and that some of them suffered death in affirm¬ 
ance of this belief: 

YI. That God has declared in Prophecy, that it is His will 
that war should eventually be eradicated from the earth; and 
that this eradication will be effected by Christianity, by the 
influence of its ‘present Principles : 

VII. That those who have refused to engage in War, in con¬ 
sequence of their belief of its inconsistency with Christianity, 
have found that Providence has protected them. 

Now we think that the establishment of any considerable number 
of these positions is sufficient for our argument. The establish¬ 
ment of the whole, forms a body of Evidence, to which I am not 
able to believe that an inquirer, to whom the subject was new, 
would be able to withhold his assent. But since such an inquirer 
cannot be found, I would invite the reader to lay prepossession 
aside, to suppose himself to have now first heard of battles and 
slaughter, and dispassionately to examine whether the evidence 
in favour of Peace be not very great, and whether the objections 
to it bear any proportion to the evidence itself. But whatever 
may be the determination upon this question, surely it is reason¬ 
able to try the experiment, whether security cannot be maintained 
without slaughter. Whatever be the reasons for war, it is certain 
that it produces enormous mischief. Even waving the obligations 
of Christianity, we have to choose between evils that are certain 


597 


Chap. 19. RECAPITULATION.—DR. JOHNSON. 

and evils that are doubtful; between the actual endurance of a 
great calamity, and the possibility of a less. It certainly cannot 
be proved, that Peace would not be the best policy; and since we 
know that the present system is bad, it were reasonable and wise 
to try whether the other is not better. In reality I can scarcely 
conceive the possibility of a greater evil than that which mankind 
now endure; an evil, moral and physical, of far wider extent, and 
far greater intensity, than our familiarity with it allows us to sup¬ 
pose. If a system of Peace be not productive of less evil than 
the system of war, its consequences must indeed be enormously 
bad; and that it would produce such consequences, we have no 
warrant for believing, either from reason or from practice,—either 
from the principles of the moral government of God, or from 
the experience of mankind. Whenever a people shall pursue, 
steadily and uniformly, the pacific morality of the gospel, and 
shall do this from the pure motive of obedience, there is no reason 
to fear for the consequences: there is no reason to fear that they 
would experience any evils such as we now endure, or that they 
would not find that Christianity understands their interests better 
than themselves; and that the surest, and the only rule of wisdom, 
of safety, and of expediency, is to maintain her spirit in every 
circumstance of life. 

“ There is reason to expect,” says Dr. Johnson, “ that as the 
world is more enlightened, policy and morality will at last be re- 
conciled C 1 When this enlightened period shall arrive, we shall 
be approaching, and we shall not till then approach, that era 
of purity and of peace, when “ violence shall no more be heard 
in our land, wasting nor destruction within our borders;”—that 
era in which God has promised that “ they shall not hurt nor 
destroy in all his holy mountain.” That a period like this will 
come, I am not able to doubt: I believe it, because it is not cre¬ 
dible that he will always endure the butchery of man by man; 
because he has declared that he will not endure it; and because 
I think there is a perceptible approach of that period in which he 
will say ,—“ It is enough.” 2 In this belief the Christian may re¬ 
joice ; he may rejoice that the number is increasing of those who 
are asking,—“Shall the sword devour for ever!” and of those 
who, whatever be the opinions or the practice of others, are openly 
saying, “ I am for Peace.” 3 

1 Falkland’s Islands. 2 2 Sam. xxiv. 16. 3 Ps. cxx. 7. 



598 GENERAL OBSERVATIONS. Essay 3. 

It will perhaps be asked, what then are the duties of a subject 
who believes that all war is incompatible with his religion, but 
whose governors engage in a war and demand his service? We 
answer explicitly, It is his duty, mildly and temperately, yet firmly, 
to refuse to serve .—Let such as these remember, that an honour¬ 
able and an awful duty is laid upon them. It is upon their 
fidelity, so far as human agency is concerned, that the Cause of 
Peace is suspended. Let them then be willing to avow their 
opinions and to defend them. Neither let them be contented 
with words, if more than words, if suffering also, is required. 
It is only by the unyielding fidelity of virtue that corruption can 
be extirpated. If you believe that Jesus Christ has prohibited 
slaughter, let not the opinions or the commands of a world induce 
you to join in it. By this “ steady and determinate pursuit of 
virtue,” the benediction which attaches to those who hear the 
sayings of God and do them, will rest upon you; and the time 
will come when even the world will honour you, as contributors 
to the work of Human Reformation. 


CONCLUSION. 


* 

That hope which was intimated at the commencement of this 
volume,—that a period of greater moral purity would eventually 
arrive,—has sometimes operated as an encouragement to the 
writer, in enforcing the obligations of morality to an extent which 
few who have written such books have ventured to advocate. In 
exhibiting a standard of rectitude such as that which it has been 
attempted to exhibit here,—a standard to which not many in the 
present day are willing to conform, and of which many would 
willingly dispute the authority, some encouragement was needed; 
and no human encouragement could be so efficient as that which 
consisted in the belief, that the principles would progressively 
obtain more and more of the concurrence and adoption of man¬ 
kind. 

That there are indications of an advancement of the human 
species towards greater purity in principle and in practice, can¬ 
not, I think, be disputed. There is a manifest advancement in 
intellectual concerns:—Science of almost every kind is extending 
her empire;—Political Institutions are becoming rapidly amelio¬ 
rated ; 1 and Morality and Religion, if their progress be less per¬ 
ceptible, are yet advancing with an onward pace. 2 

1 “ The degree of scientific knowledge which would once have conferred celebrity 
and immortality, is now, in this country, attained by thousands of obscure individuals.” 
—Fox’s Lectures. “ To one who considers coolly of the subject, it will appear that 
human nature in general, really enjoys more liberty at present, in the most arbitrary 
governments of Europe, than it ever did during the most flourishing period of ancient 
times.”—Hume. 

2 Not that the present state, or the prospects of the world, afford any countenance 
to the speculations—favourite speculations with some men—respecting “ human per¬ 
fectibility.” In the sense in which this phrase is usually employed, I fear there is 
little hope of the perfection of man. At least there is little hope, if Christianity be 
true. Christianity declares that man is not perfectible except by the immediate 
assistance of God; and this immediate assistance the advocates of “ human per¬ 
fectibility” are not wont to expect. The question, in the sense in which it is ordi¬ 
narily exhibited, is in reality a question of the truth of Christianity. 





600 


CONCLUSION. 


Essay 3 , 


Lamentations over the happiness or excellence of other times, 
have generally very little foundation in justice or reason. 1 In 
truth, they cannot be just, because they are perpetual. There 
has probably never been an age in which mankind have not be¬ 
wailed the good times that were departed, and made mournful 
comparisons of them with their own. If these regrets had not 
been ill founded, the world must have perpetually sunk deeper 
and deeper in wickedness, and retired further and further towards 
intellectual night. But the* intellectual sun has been visibly ad¬ 
vancing towards its noon; and I believe there never was a period 
in which, speaking collectively of the species, the power of re¬ 
ligion was greater than it is now: at least, there never was a 
period in which greater efforts were made to diffuse the influence 
of religion amongst mankind. Men are to be judged of by their 
fruits; and why should men thus more vigorously exert themselves 
to make others religious, if the power of religion did not possess 
increased influence upon their own minds'? The increase of crime, 
even if it increased in a progression more rapid than that of 
population and the state of society which gives rise to crime,—is 
a very imperfect standard of judgment. Those offences of which 
civil laws take cognizance, form not an hundredth part of the 
wickedness of the world. What multitudes are there of bad 
men, who never yet were amenable to the laws! How exten¬ 
sive may be the additional purity without any diminution of legal 
crimes! 

And assuredly there is a perceptible advance in the sentiments 
of good men towards a higher standard of morality. The lawful¬ 
ness is frequently questioned now, of actions of which a few ages 
ago ,few or none doubted the rectitude. Nor is it to be disputed, 
that these questions are resulting more and more in the conviction, 
that this higher standard is proposed and enforced by the Moral 
Law of God. Who that considers these things will hastily affirm 
that doctrines in morality which refer to a standard that to him is 
new, are unfounded in this Moral Law! W r ho will think it suffi¬ 
cient to say that strange things are brought to his ears 1 Who 

1 “ This humour of complaining proceeds from the frailty of our natures; it being 
natural for man to complain of the present and to commend the times past.”—Sir Josiah 
Child, 1665. This was one hundred and fifty years ago: The same frailty appears to 
have subsisted two or three thousands of years before : “ Say not thou, what is the 
cause that the former days were better than these 1 for thou dost not inquire wisely 
concerning this.”—Eccles. vii. 10. 


CONCLUSION. 


601 


will satisfy himself with the exclamation, These are hard sayings, 
who can hear them ? Strange things must he brought to the ears 
of those who have not been accustomed to hear the truth. Hard 
sayings must be heard by those who have not hitherto practised 
the purity of morality. 

Such considerations, I say, have afforded encouragement in the 
attempt to uphold a standard which the majority of mankind have 
been little accustomed to contemplate;—and now, and in time to 
come, they will still suffice to encourage, although that standard 
should be, as by many it undoubtedly will be, rejected and con¬ 
temned. 

I am conscious of inadequacy,—what if I speak the truth and 
say, I am conscious of unworthiness —thus to attempt to advocate 
the Law of God. Let no man identify the advocate with the 
Cause, nor imagine, when he detects the errors and the weak¬ 
nesses of the one, that the other is therefore erroneous or weak. 
I apologize for myself: especially I apologize for those instances 
in which the character of the Christian may have been merged in 
that of the exposer of the evils of the world. There is a Christian 
love which is paramount ,to all;—a love which he only is likely 
sufficiently to maintain, who remembers that he who exposes an 
evil and he who partakes in it, will soon stand together as suppli¬ 
ants for the mercy of God. 

And finally, having written a book wdiich is devoted almost 
exclusively to disquisitions on Morality, I am solicitous lest the 
reader should imagine that I regard the practice of morality as all 
that God requires of Man. I believe far other; and am desirous 
of here expressing the conviction that although it becomes not us 
to limit the mercy of God, or curiously to define the conditions on 
which he will extend that mercy,—yet that the true and safe 
foundation of our Hope is in “ the redemption that is in Christ 
Jesus/’ 


END. 


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